#feels like you're in a game walking down the beat up path
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rubikor · 4 months ago
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evilmenenjoyer · 4 months ago
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City of Love
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Pairing: The Salesman x fem!Reader
Summary: Months after winning the Squid Games, you receive an unwanted visit from the man who's been haunting you since the very beginning.
Word count: 5k
Warnings: smut (minors dni), drinking, sex in a public place, some murderous thoughts. Don't be fooled by the title, it's very much not a fluffy romantic fic lol.
*
The City of Love.
At least, that's what everyone calls it. It felt like the place to be after all the horrors you had endured in the past year – horrors you don't dare to say a word about to another soul. Friends and acquaintances have told you about how great it is, how beautiful, how magical. About how just a few days here will heal any woes in your heart.
Of course, it didn't work. Now you're just depressed in Paris.
It's not all bad. The Eiffel tower looks just as pretty as it does in pictures, especially late at night when it lights up and sparkles. The historic architecture and cobblestone streets are a nice break from the modern buildings you're used to from Seoul, so different it almost erases the memories sometimes. Never for too long. Just when you think you're slipping back into something resembling normalcy, they return in your nightmares in the shape of blood, pink jumpsuits and children’s games.
This afternoon, it takes the shape of a ghost – a tall, handsome man, whose face you’ve only ever seen in dreams and in the subway lines of Seoul.
All color drains from your face in a matter of seconds, all that pink winter flush.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
He smiles, like you're an old friend. It nearly throws you off your balance by how natural it looks, like he's not forcing it.
“Beautiful city, isn't it? Especially at this time of the year.”
This can't be happening. The whole reason you left South Korea was to put distance between yourself and those horrific games, and all the people associated with them. To just run into one right here, in a different continent, mere months after your victory; it makes you feel like you're about to pass out.
You stand up from your seat and walk right out of the patisserie, leaving your ridiculously overpriced hot chocolate nearly untouched on the table.
You knew, somehow, that he would follow you, but you still prayed he wouldn’t. That it had been your imagination, or the PTSD, or anything other than the Salesman himself crossing paths with you in Paris.
“I expected a warmer welcome,” a voice behind you says, making you pause your stroll down the street. Fortunately – or maybe unfortunately – you still haven’t completely lost track of what's real and what's not, and you can tell that voice is real, clear as day. He’s real and here and that terrifies you to your very core.
Turning around to face him, you hate how he still looks every bit as infuriatingly handsome as he did the first time you saw him.
“What are you doing here?” you repeat, your voice shaky and not nearly as incisive ad you’d like it to be.
“Visiting,” he replies. He turns to gaze at the scenery around you. In your hurry to get away from him, you didn't even realize you ended up at the Pont Neuf, the old bridge crossing the Seine River. Dusk settles around the two of you, the purple-ish color of the sky reflected on the river, almost too pretty for this situation. “Like I said, France is quite nice during the winter.”
You scoff. “You expect me to believe it's just a big coincidence that you and I ended up in the same place, five thousand miles away from home, at the same time?”
“Small world, isn't it?”
“I’m serious. I did everything you people wanted. I beat the games, I took the money and I kept my mouth shut. You were supposed to leave me the fuck alone.”
“Did what we wanted?” Something in his smile changes, shifts from warmth to something more sinister. “We never forced you to do anything. Remember that. You brought whatever happened on yourself.”
Cold air rushes over you, drawing a shiver out of you. It's not snowing yet, but it start might soon. It's hard to remember you were once excited for it.
He reaches out, ignoring the warnings in your eyes as he runs a finger over the smooth fabric of your scarf, then wraps it around your neck one more time. It’s almost a tender gesture, if he was someone else entirely. It should have you flinching, or slapping his hand away. Instead, it only makes you freeze in your spot.
“Yves Saint Laurent,” he notes. “I see you’ve been making good use of that money.”
It doesn't sound accusatory, but it feels like it anyway. Even after months, it still feels wrong to use the money, despite all the literal blood, sweat and tears it took to get it. Like you should be gathering it all in a pile and setting fire to it in protest. But what would that change? Why shouldn't you be allowed to use it to build a new life for yourself?
So you stayed in five star hotels. So you bought a few more pairs of Louboutin shoes than necessary. Therapy was out of the question, so this was the next best thing you could come up with for the time being. Best-case scenario, a therapist would think you're a nutcase. Worst case, they’d turn you in to the authorities for confessing to multiple murders you had committed at the Squid Games. You didn’t want to take the risk.
“I thought that was the idea,” you say. The Salesman’s hands are still on the fabric, merely touching it, but that doesn't stop your mind from picturing him gripping it, pulling on it until you suffocate in the garment you bought as some empty, mediocre sign of victory.
“It suits you.” He lets his hands fall with no damage to your throat or to your respiratory system. “Much better than those knock-offs you used to wear.”
It disturbs you that he even remembers that. As far as you know, you were only one of the hundreds of people who had played ddakji with him at the subway station. You remembered every second of it, replayed it in your mind over and over again, but there was nothing particularly memorable about you back then. You lost most rounds. You hoped against hope that he would ask you out, even after your cheek was red and stinging.
That was a different version of you. One that smiled more, even with all the hardships in your life. One that was too naive to realize she was selling her soul to the devil from that very first game of ddakji.
“Since the city brought us together,” the Salesman says, “I’d like to buy you a drink.”
It would be impossible to keep the surprise from your face if you’d tried. Those are words you would've loved to hear all those months ago, and now that he says them, you can barely draw enough air into your lungs to tell him to fuck off.
“Why? So you can kill me the second we’re off the street?”
He chuckles, like he finds your confusion amusing. “Why would I do that?”
“Isn't that why you're here?” Why else would it be, after all? Maybe it's part of their sick games; to give one person the illusion of victory, let them enjoy the money for a few months, then go after them and kill them. Or worse, pull them back in.
“If I wanted to kill you, I could do it anywhere.”
You suppose there's no arguing with that, but you're not sure if it makes you feel better. Good news: you're still breathing. Bad news: you're still breathing only until he allows you to.
“You still didn't tell me why you came after me, then,” you point out.
“Let's have a drink, and I’ll tell you.”
You must be insane for even considering this. The naive girl that had first seen him in the subway, coming home late at night from work, would be enthusiastically urging you to go. You’re supposed to know better than her.
“One drink,” you say. “Then you go home and never contact me again.”
His smile widens. “I know a nice place.”
*
He brings you to a piano bar just a few blocks away from the bridge. It's a fancy place, the kind that makes you feel underdressed even in your designer clothes. He blends right in – not only because of the sleek, tailored suit, but because of his demeanor, the natural elegance with which he carries himself.
Not for the first time, you wonder if he was born into wealth, or if he was ever like you. Someone who had to claw his way out of poverty. You can't picture it, but there's so much you don't know about him. It's what makes him so scary and confusing to you, but also so damn intriguing.
He orders for you before you have the chance to open your mouth. Dom Pérignon, two glasses. You raise your eyebrows once the waiter walks away.
“Are we celebrating something?”
“Your victory.”
The response makes your stomach drop. “I don't want to celebrate that.” Not with anyone, but especially not with him.
He gives a small shrug. “Just a special occasion, then.”
The dimmed, warm lights of the bar make the place feel so intimate, almost romantic in a sense. You don't know what to make of it, so you force yourself to look away from him, even when you can still feel his stare unflinching on you. Luckily, the waiter shows up just in time, pouring you both glasses of the bubbly drink and leaving the bottle in a bucket on the table.
You turn back to the Salesman, glaring at him. “I said one drink, not one bottle.”
“You never specified,” he replies, fake innocence in his eyes. “Gives us more time to catch up. Maybe even play a game, for old time’s sake.”
The mere mention of a game makes you want to run away, to lock yourself in the restroom and refuse to come out. It has to be intentional; he has to know what kinds of things would be running through your head, after everything you’d gone through. You take a long gulp of the champagne, nearly done with the entire glass in one go. You can't let him get to you like this. You do your best to look unbothered.
“Do you walk around with ddakji tiles everywhere?” you ask. “Just in case you find someone who wants to play?”
That earns a soft laugh out of him. “No, not ddakji.”
He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out what looks like a standard deck of cards.
“Have you ever played blackjack?”
You have, but hesitation is written all over your features. “What if I don't want to play?”
“Do you think I’d force you?” he asks, like you're a fool for even thinking so. “Like I said, you were never forced to do anything. It's your choice.” He sips his own champagne in a much classier, more contained way than you. Like he's happy to draw this out for hours, rather than wanting this night to be over as soon as possible. “But you’ve beaten much harder games before. This should be nothing for our big victor, right?”
There's a challenge in his voice, in his eyes. You should know better than to fall for it. So why is there a part of you that still feels like you have a point to prove? That feels like, with a little bit of luck and skill, you can finally beat this man at his own game?
“Fine.” You cross your arms over the table. “Let’s do this.”
Pleased with your answer, he shuffles the cards in his hands. You watch him, almost as mesmerized as you’d been watching him play ddakji at the subway station. It's so hard not to get lost in it, but you refuse to look away in shyness and hesitation again, keeping your eyes on him as you sip the rest of the champagne in your glass.
He refills it before placing four cards on the table: two facing upwards for you, one face-down and one face-up for himself, the dealer.
The rules are simple: your cards all together need to get as close to 21 without going over. Whichever one of you gets the closest wins the round. You have a nine and a four, totaling thirteen. The Salesman has a five, and a card that's invisible for you. 
“Hit me,” you say, figuring your odds can't be too bad.
He places one more card to your pile: a seven. Twenty in total. Your heart speeds up inside your chest, already triumphant even before the end.
He reveals all his cards to you: the five you’ve already seen, a nine, and a three. Seventeen. Your smile widens, relief washing over you like you’d just escaped a near-death experience. You don't think beating a game, no matter the kind, will ever not feel like this again.
“Not bad,” he compliments. He reaches into another pocket for his wallet, drawing a hundred euro note and pushing it towards you on the table.
You just stare at it with an eyebrow raised, baffled and, frankly, a bit offended. With the tip of your index finger, you push the bill back to him.
“Do you really think I still need your money?”
“It's just symbolic,” he argues, but still tucks the money back into his wallet. “Of course, we can bet on other things too, if you’d prefer.”
“What kind of things?”
“Whatever you want. You won.”
“Whatever I want?” A grin stretches across your lips as you lean forward on the table. “Like a dare?”
He leans forward as well, like he wants to meet you in the middle. His eyes never leave yours. “Like a dare.”
You wonder just how far he’d take this game, if he would do something outrageous or serious just because you told him to. Maybe not. But even this is the kind of power that you never, ever imagined you would have over this man.
“Okay. Let me see your wallet.”
He hands it over without a fight. You rummage through all of it, ignoring all the cash and instead looking for something else, anything personal. But there's nothing. No family photos, no old receipts, not even a condom tucked inside one of the pockets. At last you find his ID license, the name Park Ha-Joon listed beside a smiling picture of him that looks so normal you almost want to laugh.
“It's not your real name, is it?”
He smiles. “Smart girl.”
“It was worth a shot.” You close the wallet and hand it back to him.
He shuffles the cards, hands them over again. Seven and six. You tap the cards in a sign for him to hit you with one more.
“Do you really want to know why I came to see you?”
Your eyes snap in his direction, not even looking at the new card that’s placed in front of you. 
“I thought you’d be one of the first to die in a place like that.” He looks focused on the game as he talks, “When I found out you were the winner, I wanted to see it for myself.”
Your throat tightens, making it hard to draw in my next breath. You look around yourself, as if trying to make sure you're really here and not at that disturbing colorful scenario, or at the bunk beds in the dorm. Still the piano bar. Warm lights, soft chatter of conversation, piano notes ringing through the air. The mental image of that place still doesn't vanish from your mind.
“See what, exactly?” you ask, even though you know it would be better not to.  
“If you truly earned it, or if you’re just one more piece of trash who got lucky, like all the others before you.”
Your hand must twitch, an involuntary movement you're not even aware of, and the Salesman places another card to your pile. You look down at it in horror, realizing all the cards together total to twenty-three.
“I didn't say hit me,” you protest.
“You tapped. You know that's the sign.” He looks over the cards again, as if just noticing the source of your distress instead of directly causing it. “Too bad.”
It's not fair, and you both know it, but you doubt pointing it out will make a difference. You bite your tongue around any words as well as the lump that's formed in your throat, tears trying to rush to the surface. Your gaze meets his and holds it.
“Are you going to slap me?”
He’s still for a moment, considering it. It's one thing to hit you in the face in a mostly-empty subway station late at night, and another entirely to do it in this sophisticated bar, with all these people around as witnesses. Still, you don't doubt that he would do it. You hold yourself back from flinching when his hand comes out, bracing yourself for the impact.
It never comes. Instead, his hands merely cup your cheeks, tilting your face to face him fully. He looks at you like he's studying you, his expression unreadable.
“Not now. I want something else,” he says. “A round of shots.”
His grip on your face is firm, but he runs the pad of his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone, like wiping away a teardrop that never fell. A gesture that can only be described as affectionate, and it's messing with your head way more than the slaps on the face did.
You nod.
He holds on for just a second too long before he lets you go. He orders the shots to the waiter – you pay no attention to the brand, or even the type of booze –, and you don't say another word until after they're placed in front of you on the table, small glasses so clean they gleam under the light.
“I crawled my way out of that hell,” you tell him. “You have no idea what I had to do to survive. You don't get to sit here and tell me I didn't fucking earn it.”
He looks more amused than anything. “To kill for necessity, anyone can do. It doesn't make you as special as you think it does.” He nods towards the shot on the table, reaching for his own. “Drink.”
You count one, two, three in your head before throwing the shot back, unable to suppress a grimace when the drink comes down your throat like liquid fire.
“Why do you wanna get me drunk so bad?”
He empties his shot glass as well. “Drinking together ensures none of us has an advantage.” He picks up the deck of cards again, before you ever have the chance to tell him you’ve had enough of this game. The words die down in your throat.
One more round. Your cards add up to seventeen.
It’s too risky to ask for one more card; anything higher than four would mean an instant loss. Only then you notice the sweat under your palms, the rush in your ears overpowering the piano music in the background. You force yourself to take a deep breath, to remember that your life is not on the line anymore and losing doesn't mean certain death, even though it feels like it.
He reveals his cards. Eighteen.
“Fuck.”
He seems pleased with himself, accessing you as you brace yourself for whatever he has in mind for you now.
“Come a little closer,” he orders.
You frown, but you find yourself obeying without much questioning, getting up from your chair to slide to the seat next to him on the booth.
He pours you both more Dom Pérignon, and this time he doesn't have to tell you to drink. You focus on the way the bubbles dance inside your mouth, if only to have something to distract yourself from his proximity, from the faint smell of his cologne or from the fact he still hasn't told you what he wants from you for losing this round
His hand lands on your thigh.
You jump in surprise, and his hand tightens its grip there, digging into your skin and keeping you in your seat. Your eyes widen and search for his, a question clear in them.
With his free hand, the Salesman pushes the cards in your direction. “You’ll be the dealer now,” he says, “and for each time you lose, I get to keep my hands on you for one more round.”
Say no, you tell yourself. Say something. A better, stronger woman would throw the champagne in the glass on his face and walk right out of this bar. Instead, you find yourself still as a statue, a sudden rush of warmth overflowing your senses – first, it rises to your face, coloring your cheeks red, then it travels lower to the pit of your stomach and down right into the space between your legs.
You can’t even tell if it’s the alcohol, spreading through your bloodstream and bringing a buzzing sensation to your head that’s not all unpleasant, or the fact you haven’t been touched like this in what feels like forever, or simply the man sitting next to you. How many times had you fantasized about this, until you realized that he was the catalyst of your ruin?
Maybe even a few times after that.
You take the deck of cards. He grins like he knew you would, like a master pleased with a dog following his command. You want to wipe that look off his face, but you can barely concentrate enough to properly shuffle the cards.
If you felt like you were fighting for your life before, it’s nothing compared to right now. The hand doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as twitch until the very final moments of the round, when you realize the two of you are tied. A fingertip slides up the fabric of your stockings until it stops at your knee, your skin erupting in goosebumps following the movement. Your heart beats so hard inside your chest you can barely hear the chatter of people around you as the bar fills in with people.
You lose the next round, and the next, and the one after that. You can’t even tell if you’re doing it on purpose anymore.
With each passing minute that you don’t push him away, that you allow him to test and cross your boundaries, he gets more daring, drawing shapes in the perimeter of your leg and curling into your inner thigh. Your chest rises with a breath that comes tumbling out, the sound of it way too close to a whimper for your liking.
You can tell he notices it instantly, observant and apparently fluent in your body language like he’s spent years of his life studying it. He takes the opportunity to let his hand wander under your skirt, to the spots it hadn’t covered yet.
That’s enough. You need to win this next round.
It’s like, for once, God listens to your prayers. Your cards add up to an even, perfect twenty-one to his nineteen.
He retrieves his hand as if on cue. You thought you would be gasping in relief, but what comes out instead is a pitiful, almost desperate don’t.
He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t as in stop?” he asks. “Or as in don’t stop?”
Your body answers the question for him before your mind can even process what happened, grabbing his hand and pulling it to the spot where it was. Your skin comes ablaze the second he touches you again, like his touch is charged with electricity.
“Did you know,” you can feel his breath so close to you when he speaks, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “that you were the first person who ever challenged me to play ddakji at the subway? Usually it’s the other way around. Nobody but you ever made the first move.”
It’s hard to concentrate on his words like this, with his body leaning into yours and his hand that still touches you under the table and– whoa, that is not your thigh. The solid press against your core makes your whole body twitch, but you don’t jerk away. You try to focus on the memory.
“I didn’t give a fuck about the game,” you reveal. “I just wanted you to notice me.”
“I know.” He draws small, precise circles over you. “Do you ever think about how I would’ve left you alone otherwise?”
Of course you do, more than you would ever admit. But having him confirm it hurts. It’s bad enough to know you’re the one who caused all the trauma you’ve been through since meeting him, that you could’ve just carried on with your life, shitty as it as, if only you weren’t a foolish girl with a crush on a stranger. But to be in his arms right now, your head falling over his shoulder and your lips releasing a tiny whimper; it just makes it all the more fucked up.
“Was it worth it?”
The smile on your lips is devoid of any humor. “Never.”
“Let me prove to you that it was.”
Just like that, everything stops. He scoots away from you in the booth and stands up, bringing all the heat with him aside from the faint lingering warmth on your face. He leaves a few bills over the table, enough for the entire tab, and walks away.
He doesn’t head towards the front door, instead making his way to the opposite direction. You watch him, confused, for a few moments before you trail after him, past the kitchen and the restrooms until you see the red glow of an exit sign.
A chilly breeze rushes over you the second you step outside, and you expect to see him walking into the dark narrow street. But he’s waiting for you, leaning against the brick wall behind him. He raises his eyebrows in that same condescending way he’s done all night, daring you to make the next move.
You don’t hesitate for even a second longer. You grab a fistful of his impeccable suit jacket and pull him closer, crashing your lips together.
From the start, it’s not sweet or gentle. He digs his fingers into your hips hard enough to bruise, wasting no time before he lifts you up into the air and pins you against the wall. You gasp into his mouth, parting your lips and practically begging his tongue inside. Your legs part almost in unison, allowing him to settle between them and effectively trap you, his larger frame blocking any exit.
As if you would dream to get away.
In one swift movement, he reaches between your legs and rips at the fabric of your stockings, the sound echoing through the empty street. You’re already making quick work of his belt; or trying to, frustrated by your lack of mobility from his position. He doesn’t seem willing to let you go, so he does it himself instead, pulling his pants down just enough to free himself from the confines of his underwear.
You’ve soaked through your panties in whatever time it took to play all those rounds of blackjack. It felt like it was drawn-out for hours, but you know it couldn’t have been more than just a few minutes. He moans when he feels it, before he even pushes into you – a heavenly, otherworldly sound, one you want to hear again and again. You push your hips towards him, feeling yourself throb when he rubs his length over you, burning hot where skin meets even though everything around you is cold. He rewards you with another sound that you drink right in as you deepen the kiss, happy to never have your lips separate from each other ever again.
He pushes the fabric of your panties to the side and thrusts into you without a warning, drawing a strangled, sharp gasp from you. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to the invasion, setting up a punishing pace that pushes you against the wall hard with every thrust. You claw at his back, losing the ability to form coherent thoughts, helpless to stop it as he all but consumes you like this is his last chance to.
“Ah– fuck,” you have to break away from his lips to attempt to draw in some air, your breaths and sounds interrupted by the rhythmic, vicious snaps of his hips into yours. He takes the opportunity to tilt his head and follow the line of your jaw with his lips, to mouth kisses and graze his teeth over your throat.
Hands find their way under pieces of clothing, trying to cling to as much bare skin as they can. He does most of the work, still holding you up in the air with the help of the wall (you curl your toes just to test the waters, the ones on the foot closest to the ground, and they barely touch the pavement), bouncing you on his cock however he sees fit, and it’s embarrassing how close you are already just from this.
“Fuck, baby, that’s so good.”
It’s intoxicating how vocal he is, all the grunts and moans he breathes into your neck, how it rips more sounds out of you than you would usually make. The street is completely silent save for the two of you, not another soul in sight. You could kill him right here and he would never see it coming. Gut him with the knife tucked away in your purse, leave him on the pavement gasping for his last breath. Who would catch you? You have enough money to run to yet another country, to give yourself a new identity and reinvent yourself as many times as you want.
The purse is on the floor where you’d carelessly let it fall, out of reach. Still you run your hands down over his bottom, feeling for any guns or weapons he may have tucked into the back of his waistband, or hidden in his pockets. There’s nothing, but you don’t have a lot of time to be disappointed about it before you’re coming with a high-pitched, broken shout, like your orgasm has taken you by surprise. He holds you up, squeezing you against the wall for support, the only thing stopping you from falling straight to the floor.
The Salesman follows right after, a stream of goods and fucks and your name falling from his lips as he spills deep into you. You wish you had it in you to be offended, to tell him off for it. But all you can think about is how much you wish you knew his name so you could shout it, gasp it, whisper it, for as long as he keeps holding you this tight.
2K notes · View notes
sweetinsaniiity · 11 months ago
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Sick, Little Games
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► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - psycho!blackmailer!mingi x fem!reader!Y/N ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 - smut with plot, blackmail, gaslighting, Mingi is kind of a dom!, restraint (via rope), public sex (fingering), semi-exhibitionism, hair-pulling, reluctance, corruption kink, it becomes consensual, creampie, no protection (do NOT do this!), cum swapping/transferring, fluff, falling in love ◄ ► 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - MDNI, violence, mentions of dubcon, CNC (consensual-non-consensual) ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 20K (I swear I tried to make this shorter) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - All you wanted was to go home and relax on a Friday night, so you take the subway. There, you encounter a man whose character prevents you from leaving. No seriously, he literally prevents you from leaving by tying a rope on your wrists while holding the other end with his big, strong hands. The rope isn't the only thing those hands will hold tonight. ◄
► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - Welp this one is a little darker, let me know if I missed a couple of tags. This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent Ateez in real life. Join the taglist here. Title from All Time Low. ◄
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Home is all I ever wanted to be right now. The thought of my warm, cozy bed with me on it buried under my fluffy blanket is making me walk faster towards my destination - the subway.
I sighed in relief when I noticed there weren't many people, in fact there was literally no one at all except maybe the occasional passing of the cleaners and one man who was standing idly by the edge of the platform, I'm assuming he was also waiting for the next train.
I could feel his eyes staring me down even though I stood ten feet away from him. Maybe he was surprised to see somebody still waiting like him? Either way, when he didn't look away, I knew I had to make small talk to make things less awkward.
"It's finally the weekend now, huh?" I greeted him.
He was tall, maybe at six feet give or take, and he wore jeans partnered with a black blouse underneath a blacker cardigan that hung nicely against his toned frame. 
He tilted his head at me curiously and a slow smirk creeped up on his face. "Yes, it is. What's a lady like you doing out here so late at night?"
"Oh, I have a part time job at the restaurant a couple of blocks away from here, shift ended late," I replied cheerily.
He raised a brow up. "You look awfully young to be working."
"No, well, technically I'm still in university."
"Oh? Where?"
"Seoul University, I'm in my third year."
A slight smile tilted his thick lips upward. "Interesting. I graduated there three or four years ago. How are you liking it so far?"
I glanced at nowhere in particular to give it some thought. "I suppose it's okay," I shrugged, "I only have one year left anyway."
He bit his lips and nodded slowly. "Third year's usually the time when you get sick of what you're doing and you end up hating everything."
I giggled in amusement. "Well that's an interesting way to look at it, you've been in my shoes once so I understand."
He stares at me deeper, his smirk growing wider. "Too harsh?"
"No," I shook my head. "You were just telling the truth."
"I suppose I was," he chuckled. "What's your name?"
"Ah, I'm Y/N," I said without missing a beat. "You?"
He hesitated for a couple of seconds before he replied. "Call me Min for now."
I frowned. That was odd. Your name isn't usually something you think about because it's an automatic response.
"Pretty name for a pretty lady," he coolly puts his hands in his jean pockets.
I grinned at him. "Glad I have your approval, Min. Are you always like this to people you see on the subway?"
I saw a small shiver go through him before he pursed his lips. "Maybe," he shrugged. "You never know who crosses your path one day."
Something about his tone and the way he said it made it sound like he hit the jackpot, but I ignored it. Maybe it was just in my head, I mean, I am pretty tired today.
It got silent again after that. I was finally able to stare at him a little better. 
He was insanely handsome - hot, actually - he had short, dark hair that was equally messy and slicked back neatly, and it didn't help that he wore these black, thick, squared type glasses, and it made him look so charismatic.
I looked at him again when his deep voice startled me. "I don't mean to bother you, but do you have the time on you?"
A mild shiver passed through me, the good kind. His voice was deep. I cleared my throat. "Uh yeah, sure, give me a second..."
He hummed while I took a glance at my phone. I saw him eyeing the phone. "It's a quarter past 10."
He nodded in response, dragging a heavy sigh. "Getting impatient?" I asked in amusement. He scoffed softly.
"Patience is a virtue," I joked.
His sharp eyes pierce my doe-like ones, darkening significantly. "I am not known for my patience," he smirked.
I frowned at his bizarre choice of words, about to retort something profound back, but the distinct sounds of the oncoming train made me swallow my words.
"About damn time," I muttered.
"Patience is a virtue," he mocked.
He started walking towards me with slow, but long strides. He didn't break eye contact with me while doing so, and my heart started erratically breathing. The way he walked reminded me of a predator stalking its prey.
I brushed my own thoughts off, that was just absurd. I tried to calm myself by breathing in and out and by the time he reached where I was standing, the train was almost here anyway, so I just ignored him.
Suddenly, I felt him wrap his arm around my waist from behind me. I gasped loudly when his hand squeezed the fleshy part of my waist painfully.
"What the hell are you doing, Min?" I growled, turning my head around to scowl at him, but it was no use. Besides the fact that he was tall, his firm chest pushed out and prevented me from looking at him.
"Don't move," he whispered, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine, the bad kind.
He pulled me flush against him and now my back was completely touching his frontal body. It sent my body on overdrive and I thrashed this time to try to get free, but it was no use.
"I said," he put his other hand on my shoulder. "Don't move."
The train stopped, the door directly in front of us. I was petrified at this point. This man can do anything to me and none would be the wiser.
After what seemed like forever, the train finally departed and that's when I snapped out of whatever trance I was in. 
"Wait, don't go!" I wailed at the moving train, but it was no use. I despaired, that was the last ride until the next day.
I heard him chuckle from behind me, I felt his chest rumbling at the sound. It all happened so fast; one second he turned me around to face him and the next thing I knew he was tying a rope around my wrists as tightly as he could.
"Should've been louder, maybe someone could have heard you," he paused, looking down on me with his sharp eyes. "Then again, I would have just covered that pretty mouth anyway."
"Wait, please don't do this," I whimpered.
"Why not?" he asked, not stopping from tying a series of complicated knots on my wrists, each tug tighter than before it, but surprisingly, it didn't hurt.
"What do you mean why not?" I couldn't help but snap at him. "You're insane!"
He didn't respond, he unfurrowed his thick brows, once he was done with the last knot. He, then, wrapped the other end of the rope with his own hand.
His face didn't give away any sort of emotion as we stared at each other with what seemed like an eternity. I grew fearful of this man, there was no way I could fight him because he was much, much bigger than me even if I tried.
I tried to back away, but there was only so much I could do because the rope would stop me and tug me back.
"Don't come any closer," I raised my hands, or rather, my fists since my wrists were bound together.
He tilted his head inquisitively, still staring at me impassively. I panicked, tugging my hands as hard as I could and wiggling my wrists to try and loosen the thick rope, but all it did was give me rug burns. He sighed, tugging the rope once, making me pause at my ministrations.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked in a small voice.
Shrugging, he tugged on the rope again, this time a little forcefully, but not enough for me to get dragged to him. 
"No, wait, please," I pulled my hands harder, stronger, making his brows rise. "Please take it off, I-I'll give you money."
He smirked. "No."
"But--"
"No offense, angel, but I will probably make what you make in two weeks within a day."
"So you don't need me then," I laughed nervously. "Please, just take it off, I won't tell anybody."
Crossing his arms, he shook his head. "I'm not taking it off."
"Why?" I was scared, nervous, desperate at this point.
Min tugged the rope for real this time, I had no choice but to walk to him begrudgingly.
"Because I don't want to," he whispered. He was so close that I could smell the minty gum he was chewing on. "Come here."
He had the audacity to smile at me as he pulled me against his chest again, this time, facing him with my tied wrists between us. "Much better," he mumbled.
I narrowed my eyes on him. "Is this what you do in your spare time? Do you always have a rope on you?"
He raised a brow in amusement. "No. First time actually."
I tried to wiggle away from his vice grip. "Please don't hurt me."
"Never," he shook his head.
"So let me go," I pleaded.
I swallowed, my blood running cold against my veins. There was only one thing I could think of, then. His eyes roamed over my face, as if he knew what I was thinking.
"I'm not going to do whatever you're thinking," he sighed. "I'm not going to fuck you."
"Kind of hard not to assume you're not going to force yourself on me," I chuckled with no humour, cheeks blushing at his crudeness.
"Only if you want to," he grinned. He sighed when he saw no response on my end. "I will not hurt you so long as you don't fight me."
"Let me go then."
"No. I'm not going to repeat myself." It was a flat declaration and there was an underlying threat in his voice. 
"How long are you going to take me captive then?"
"Assuming that I'll even let you go in the first place," he shrugged.
I stared at him in horror. I felt his hand on my arm, the ghost of his touch tickling me, higher and higher up until it reached my hair. He stroked my hair  like a parent soothing their child. 
I gasped when he slightly tugged on it, I was expecting a sting on my scalp, but nothing. He went back to stroking my hair again, then tugging it ever so slightly. I made the mistake of sighing at his touch.
"You like that?" he murmured.
I didn't respond. I felt confused like I have never been before. Not to say that I'm happy that I was a prisoner in his arms, but my body began relaxing before I knew it.
He started tracing random patterns on my back, rendering me even more confused. Strands of my hair were also tucked behind my ear. "Pretty," he murmured again. "It would be a shame if I just..."
I groaned when he tugged my hair a little harder, enough for me to look up at him, but not enough for him to pull my hair out. "Ow!"
"Stop trying to untie them," he pointed at the wrists. "It's not going to work."
I gritted my teeth aggressively. Damn it, I thought, I thought he wouldn't notice me tinkering with the rope as he played with my hair and touched my back. 
My eyes widened when he slowly leaned forward, his face getting close to mine. I panicked, a short burst of adrenaline rushed through me as I pulled myself free from his grasp.
I swung my fists forward, a shocked look passed through Min's face, barely missing his face he quickly ducked down to avoid my hit. I squeaked when he grasped my wrists painfully and pushed me away rather roughly.
"Not bad," he laughed. "That would have been really bad if you actually hit me, yes?"
I ran off in a hurry, but quickly got stopped by the restriction the rope gave me. I hissed in pain, it had managed to dig into my skin a bit and leave red, angry welts on it.
Min frowned at me, his eyes softening as he stared at me trying to soothe the pain. He stood looking at me a few feet apart, his hand outstretched a bit towards my direction as if he wanted to beckon me over.
"You," I exhaled. "You stay where you're at, and stay away from me."
His lips twitched up in delight. "Or what?"
I blabbered like a fish, my mouth agape as my brain went into overdrive. What the hell is wrong with this man? I must've said that aloud, because the way he grinned at me with a look of amusement was making me nervous.
"I'm going to scream," I informed him.
He smiled. "Go ahead."
And so I did. I screamed, I yelled, I shouted, I screeched like a banshee like my life depended on it - well, technically, it does - and I did this for five minutes straight, but nothing. 
I wasn't soft at it either, I was yelling. Min was leaning on a nearby wall with his arms crossed, silently watching me and letting me do my thing.
I was extremely frustrated at this point. Now that I think about it, it's extremely abnormal to have absolutely nobody around, but then, I remembered that it was a Friday night and everybody was either already resting or getting drunk out of their minds. It didn't help that the subway was also underground.
"It's just you and me, doll face," he stated, biting his bottom lip and chewing on it a bit. "Save yourself the trouble."
"You can't possibly keep me here forever," I scoffed at him.
He nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "I don't see why that's a bad idea."
"If you think I'm not going to put up a fight with you, then you're sorely mistaken," I sarcastically remarked, pausing when I felt my wrists sting again.
"I'd like to see you try," he chuckled, the sound of his raspy voice echoing all over the station. It further solidified the emptiness of the place.
I thought about my next move carefully. He doesn't want money, and to be fair, I had nothing much to offer anyway. He's calm and collected, that means he knows exactly what he is doing. He has a rope, for God's sake, what else can possibly have?
"I'd really like to go home now, I'm exhausted and I have no time for your games, Min, seriously," I pleaded, hoping to try my luck on the poor damsel distress act.
"You don't really have to do anything," he shrugged. "I'm not going to make you do what you don't want to do."
I raise my brow at him with a sarcastic lift of my tied hands. He laughed a little. "That doesn't count," he laughed, his chest rising up and down.
I scoffed loudly. "What?" I barked. "Are you for real? How deranged are you? Why are you really doing this?"
He watched me intently, staring at me directly in the eye without blinking. His sharp eyes made me so uncomfortable, like he was undressing me from where I stood just by the motion of his eyes.
His lips lift into a smirk. "Because I can."
Steam started coming out of my ears. I don't care if he kills me or does whatever he wants, I was mad. "Really? Is your birthstone crystal meth?" I sassed, rolling my eyes at him to emphasize my point.
Min raises his brows so high his thick glasses couldn't cover them, then he looks down on the floor, but not before I saw the smallest smile on his face. It was probably the most genuine one I've seen tonight. He was trying not to laugh. 
"What a mouth you have, you sweet little thing," he chuckled. "How about you come closer to me right now?"
"But you said you're not going to make me do things I don't like," I frowned.
His sharp eyes narrowed, staring into my wary ones. "And I stand by that."
He pointed at my wrists with his index finger. I didn't realize he was wearing a lot of rings on his hands, but this one in particular had a nice black ring. "That looks like that hurts."
I stared down at my wrists. Indeed, they were close to being ugly and painful blisters because of how much friction I was causing them, friction I barely noticed because of the adrenaline rush and survival instinct to free myself of this damned thing.
"It does," I admitted. "Because you're letting me suffer by not letting me go."
He shook his head. "That's a strong word. I can make it better," he offered softly.
"How?"
A sly smirk makes its way on his plump lips. He pats the wall beside him, his stare not wavering a bit. "Come," he said softly.
I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised they didn't get stuck behind my head. "Absolutely not," I snapped. "I'd rather let my wrists rot."
"You sure?"
He was waving a tube of a familiar generic ointment you'd see everywhere, the cocky twinkle in his eyes palpable. I gulped, the stinging sensation on my skin getting a bit more intense at the sight of what could be temporary relief on my end.
But alas, I chose to turn around and ignore him. I heard him sigh loudly from behind me and the distinctness of his cardigan rustling as he moved from his position.
"Seriously now," he began. When I still had my back turned on him and still completely ignoring him, he sneered. "Alright, whatever, I guess."
I peered over at him and saw him leaning back on the wall with his arms crossed again, staring me down. I hissed loudly when I accidentally angled my arm wrong, causing the rope to dig in a bit and rub against the sensitive parts of my skin.
"Fine," I scowled. I held my hand out in the air. "Toss it."
He laughed, his deep, hoarse voice booming towards me. If he wasn't such a jerk, I might have found that sexy. He grinned, taunting me by wiggling his fingers back and forth. 
"No, no, no, sweetie pie," he sneered. "You're going to come here and get it from me."
The colour from my face drained. I bit my lip apprehensively, and I didn't miss the dark and dismal look in his eyes. I don't want to go to him in case he does something shady, but is it better than being restrained?
I scowled at him. Unfortunately, nothing was better than this. My legs felt like lead, heavily treading towards him. He gave me an amused look because I had to crane my head upwards just so I could look at him.
I couldn't help the blush that reddened my ears. Darn this man, he was unfairly good looking. The way he looked at me made my insides flip upside down with anticipation and I did not like it one bit.
"Well?" I asked impatiently.
"Actually," he clicked his tongue. "I don't think so."
My brain had a major explosion. I widened my eyes at him. "That deal has already sailed," he smiled, patting my nose with his finger. "My God, you're cute," he commented when I grimaced at him.
"Please, they really hurt," I whined. I wasn't lying at this point, I had sensitive skin due to eczema and the littlest irritation can lead to the worst flare ups that usually last from a couple of weeks to a month depending on how bad they get.
He stared at me with a blank expression, though it is not to be mistaken with nonchalance, no. I can tell he was already calculating in his head on what he should do next.
He puts a finger on his chin, lightly stroking his thumb over it as his scorching gaze pierced through mine. I gulped when he suddenly brought his glasses lower on the bridge of his nose as his eyes peered from above the thick glasses.
His eyes were much sharper than I thought they were when the glasses weren't obstructing them. I had this urge to fold in on myself when he studied me deeper. I have never felt this exposed in my entire life before and I was fully clothed. Warmth spread on my entire lower groin.
"Hands up," he instructed, pushing his glasses back up. I was told and he held the knots that bound me. "I'm going to untie you so I can apply the ointment."
Before I could celebrate the tiny hope he had given me, he continued. "If you try to run away," he said softly, still looking at me. "I'm going to force you back. I don't want to hurt you."
I nodded. His fingertips trace my whole arm, smirking when he noticed the goosebumps he had caused, all the way down to my wrists. My breath hitched when he blew on my blistering skin to attempt to calm the redness down.
"I know it hurts," he whispered, his tone soothing my ears with tenderness. "Hold still, yeah? I promise I'll be gentle..."
He worked on the complicated knots he had made, tugging at them until they slowly loosened. He gently and carefully lifted the rope off and caressed the sensitive skin underneath, and just like that I was untied.
Then I made a run for it.
I ran as far as my legs could carry me, and before I knew it I had ran deeper into the isolated part of the station, but I didn't care as long as I could get away from that lunatic. I'll find somewhere temporary to hide and wait until he leaves so I can---
I screamed when I felt strong arms wrap around my waist, and before I knew it, I was lifted up and hoisted over Min's left shoulder, my bottom up in the air and my legs flailing around.
"Put me down!" I cried, hitting his back with my fists angrily. 
"Behave."
I shut my mouth at his clipped tone. I did, however, let out another scream in surprise when I felt his hand come down my behind harshly.
Spanking my ass was definitely the last thing I thought he'd do in this ridiculous situation. I was tempted to smack his butt back since it was literally in front me, but I decided against it.
"You're being an awfully naughty girl right now, don't you think?" I can practically hear the smirk on his voice as he walked a bit.
I was set down rather delicately, but I can't say the same when he pushed me against a nearby wall because it was rough. I whimpered when he grabbed my hands and put them up and also pressed them against the wall.
"What are you going to do to me?" I whispered.
He was so close to my face, so close that if he only leaned a bit our lips would touch. "What would you like me to do to you?" he asked, his voice huskier than normal.
"Let me go."
"Except that."
"I will report you to the authorities, someone has to find us eventually," I threatened, or at least that's how it sounded in my ear.
He tilted his head in amusement. "With what information?"
He was right. I only have a first name, but not a family name. He laughed, but his grin didn't quite reach his eyes. "You can tell them the name I gave you, if that is even my real name, then yes, by all means, sweetheart."
I mustered up the courage to speak. "So what is it, then?"
"Why do you wanna know? So you can scream it for me?"
I looked at him in disgust. "Seriously," I rolled my eyes.
He chuckled lightly. "Hands. And no running."
This time he actually applied the ointment for real on my hands. The way he spread the soothing balm all over the affected area made me sigh in relief, to which he smiled. If we weren't in the most unusually messed up situation right now, I might have swooned at how sweet he was being.
He was a wolf in sheep's clothing, however. The rope was back on my wrists, albeit looser this time.
"Are you going to tell me your real name?" I inquired as we both sat down on the filthy floor of the subway station, our backs leaning against the cool wall.
He met my eyes, the brown orbs analyzing me. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"You're insufferable."
"What are you willing to give me in return?"
I paused, genuinely thinking about it for a moment. I sighed in defeat when I couldn't think of literally anything. But his smirk told me otherwise.
"What are you doing?" I asked apprehensively at his onslaught.
My eyes widened when his fingers traced my cheeks, down to my jawline, and towards my lips. I was frozen on the spot. "You should moisturize your lips often, love," he whispered. 
He pulls on my bottom lip and gently sticks his fingertips in between my lips. "Open up for me."
I put my bound hands on top of his to attempt to push him away, but he was stronger. "Are you being serious right now?" I gaped at him.
"Tick tock, the deal won't be on the table for long," he shrugged.
I glared at him. "You'll give me what I want if I do it?"
His smirk widens. "Yes."
I sighed in defeat, opening up my mouth ever so slightly, but his long, thick fingers forced them to open wider anyway. Butterflies started to form in my stomach and I looked everywhere except him. God, this felt weirdly intimate for some reason.
"Suck."
"Now hold on just a minute," I backed away, effectively swatting his hand away in annoyance. "You did not just ask me to do what I thought you did."
"But I did," he replied cockily.
"I can't believe you!" I exclaimed, incredulous at the ridiculous request. 
I was so annoyed at this point and I wanted nothing but to bang my head against the concrete floor after I banged his.
"You know what to do if you want something out of me," he was tracing my lips again with his finger.
I heaved a long sigh, swallowing all the pride I had and grabbed his arm and with that, I put his index, middle, and ring finger in my mouth while I maintained eye contact with him.
He stared at me with hooded eyes, his gaze significantly darkening with every passing second. He let out a deep groan when I made slurping sounds as I lapped his fingers like it was the tastiest thing I have ever had. I swirled my tongue all over his fingers and even gave his palm a lick.
His Adam's apple bobbed up and down repeatedly, especially when I bit his fingers softly. I alternated between that, licking, and as well as sucking. I was definitely being filthy with it, and it was absolutely humiliating to do whatever this was.
His other hand pushes my head off gently and he withdraws his fingers from my mouth. He sighed sensually when my drool dripped down from his fingers to all over his hand. 
"Here," his voice was thick. I froze when he traced my lips again, but this time, he coated them with my own saliva. "Now they're not dry anymore," he smirked.
He didn't stop there. I stopped breathing when he put the very same fingers in his own mouth. He chuckled at my dumbfounded expression.
The desire that flashed through his eyes took me aback a little when I realized I was trying to discern his taste by smacking my mouth obnoxiously. I blushed, I wasn't doing it on purpose, he had this salty, sensual taste to him that took my breath away.
"So, uhm, what is it?" I questioned, not missing the tremor my voice now held.
"Oh. It's Song."
I waited a couple of seconds for him to continue, but when I realized that he wasn't going to, my patience thinned significantly. "That's it?" I hissed. "Song what?"
"That wasn't part of the deal, you have to be specific next time," he shrugged with his eyes closed, but I can see a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Ugh! Have you no shame?!"
He slowly opened his eyes, staring at me intently, then leaned a little closer to my face. "If I did," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave lower. "You wouldn't be here right now."
I instinctively leaned away from him. "At least you're aware ," I mumbled.
It must be closer to midnight now, I can feel it, we've been at this ridiculous game of cat and mouse for a while now. I sighed deeply while I pictured my cat, King, waiting for me home. It's a good thing I overfilled his water and snack bowl today, I just had a gut feeling. Unfortunately, I was correct.
"Penny for your thoughts, water lily?" he asked all of a sudden.
I scoffed, not even bothering to look at him. "None of your damn business," I spat.
"That's too bad," he chuckled. "I was hoping to barter an exchange with you again."
That made my ears perk up and my eyes twinkle, but I wasn't buying it. He's cunning, sly, and manipulative. There was no way in hell I was trusting anything he said at this point.
A certain slashing sound sliced through the air and in my peripheral vision, I saw Min holding something in his hand and twirling it around like it was a toy.
I whipped my head back towards him in curiosity and his smirk grew wider at the small gasp I let out.
"Change your mind yet?" he questioned with a beam.
There was a softness to his appearance in conjunction to his rugged features. Truth be told, he was probably the most attractive man I have ever seen in my life and I don't think I will ever find another one that will come close.
I scoffed. "Not only do you have a rope, but you also have a pocket knife on you like it's the most normal thing in the entire world." 
I groaned, swinging my head back and the back of it against the wall in frustration. "What the hell is happening to me lately," I cursed.
I felt something soft instead of the hard wall when I leaned back again.
"What can I say? Having both is part of my work," he muttered, his hand sandwiched between my head and the wall. "Stop before you hurt yourself."
"Work? Well, what are you? A mobster?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.
He blinked at me a couple of times before he burst out laughing. He was actually laughing, and my heart jumped at the pleasant sound. I stared at him as his body vibrated with mirth, his eyes formed into these tiny crescent as they disappeared from his mouth stretched out in a charming grin. Even his laugh was so damn attractive.
"Why?" he grinned, wiping an imaginary tear from underneath his glasses with the same hand that held hy head from the wall. "Do I look like one to you?"
"I don't know," I shrugged, frowning at him. "Are you?"
He surveyed me when he calmed down, gauging I was serious at knowing the answer to my question, but after a moment, he shook his head as he watched me carefully.
"No," he denied with a small smile.
Another laugh escaped him when he saw my irritated expression and amusement was all his eyes showed as he watched me try to cross my arms but failed since my hands were literally bound together and it was borderline impossible to even do anything remotely close.
"Uncomfortable?" he clicked his tongue.
I glared at him intensely. "What do you think?" I hissed, extremely annoyed at the fact that I can't even do anything. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
He nodded in acknowledgement. "I am," he replied, angering me. "Very much so, actually. But I'd enjoy it more if you'd just give in to me."
"Not a chance," I jeered with an aggravated sigh. "So if Min isn't your real name, what do I call you then?"
"Min's good for now," he shrugged, twirling the knife again expertly in his nimble hands. "And what a shame, I can be good for you, you know?"
I wanted nothing but to slap the smug look on his face to oblivion. "I think I can live without knowing what that's like," I snorted.
His brows knit together. "Suit yourself," he shrugged. "I guess we'll be here for a while."
When he saw me glaring daggers, no pun intended, at the small pocket knife he held in his hands, he twirled them faster, tempting me to just stand up and kick his balls as hard as humanly possible so I could get it.
But along that was the underlying fear that I truly didn't know what he truly wanted with me. That, alone, makes me even more terrified of being here.
I gulped apprehensively and his face switched to something else when he noticed. "You're not going to use that on me, are you?" I pointed at the blade.
He shook his head. "No. Not now, not ever. I told you, I'm not going to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you."
"Besides," he continued. "If you come to me by force, then I don't want it."
He smirked at me suggestively, to which I scoffed softly, but loud for him to hear. "I'm too good for you," I rolled my eyes at him.
Well. Not entirely. In any normal circumstances, someone like him wouldn't even be in the same room as me. I couldn't point my finger at it at first, but a man this self-assured and dauntless must be someone of higher authority and money, I was sure of it.
"That, you are, my peach," he agreed. Something surges in his eyes when he noticed the blush that covered my cheeks.
God, his eyes. There was a lifetime of struggle in there that has never been put into words. His face in general, he was out of my league.
He glances at my bound wrists and for a second, I thought he was going to set me loose. My eyes widened when he put the sheath back on the blade and set it aside, instead.
"What?" he taunted. "You don't want to cooperate."
I closed my eyes tightly and took a deep breath in defeat. "I'm at a total loss right now. You want me to exchange you something, correct?"
He nods enthusiastically. "But not the knife?" I quipped.
"I don't want to let you go yet," he shook his head.
"I am aware..."
A small smile forms on his face as his brows shoot up, waiting for me to continue. "But I have nothing more to offer you," I rambled. "I have nothing on me that will interest you."
"And that, my little dove," he hummed. "Is where you're wrong."
Hot, red anger coursed through my veins when he dug into the pockets of his black cardigan and took out my wallet.
"Where did you even get that?" I seethed.
He shrugged. "Take a wild guess."
I wanted to scream in disbelief. He must've gotten his hands on it when he carried me earlier. I had a terrible habit of putting my wallet in the back pocket of any pants I wore.
"Even if I let you go, how would you get home?" he said. "Taking the subway meant you lived a decent distance from here."
He was right. Walking was out of the question because if I did, I would walk three hours. The subway cut the journey into half an hour.
I stared at him, calculating how I would get my wallet out of his claws and taking him down at the same time.
"Don't even think about it," he laughed. "I'm much bigger than you, and you know it."
"What do you want, Min?" I sighed in desperation. "Tell me what is it that you want so you can let me go, what do you want from me?"
He tilted his head to meet my eyes, slowly jutting his arms out to reach towards me and touch my chin lightly. He titled my face gently in his direction, and I was able to meet his eye as well.
"I want you," he spoke softly. "You would think that tying you up would make that very obvious."
I couldn't look away from his burning gaze even if I tried; I could have held it forever. His eyes were dangerously penetrating, he looked pure male at this very moment.
"Tying me up is not the solution, though, you psycho," I frowned at him.
"Humour me this," he uttered, waving his hands in the air as he spoke. "It's almost midnight and when you get to the sub, there's a big, scary man waiting in there, wanting to say hi..."
He paused, waiting for me to internalize the imagery. When it dawned on me, I sighed. "See what I mean, babygirl?" he chuckled.
"Don't call me that," I snapped. "Also your logic is ass."
He smirked, ignoring my statement. "Call you what?"
My scowls deepened when his eyes slowly trailed down from my eyes to my chest. He laughed when I lifted my wrists to attempt to hide them, but there was no point. I growled for him to look away, but of course, he was who he was and he only stared at me, not saying anything back. 
His gaze wasn't uncomfortable, rather, there was a hint of wonder in them and it made my breathing constricted and shallow.
I know that look - it was scheming. The lasciviousness in which he stared at me was shamefully making my core ache, the patch of wetness staining my underwear was proof enough.
He sat straighter and his form, especially his upper torso, became bigger. He inched closer to me. "Kiss me," he whispered breathily.
There was a bomb that went off in my brain. I blinked owlishly at him. "Excuse me?"
He bit his lip to stop himself from smiling. "You heard me, Y/N. I want you to want me."
He licked his lips, his eyes clouding over when I shivered involuntarily when his deep, sultry voice said my name like he was praying for me to say yes.
His brows raise and his eyes widen a bit when I start to advance, leaning my face very slowly towards his face. His Adam's apple bobs up and down and his eyes flutter close as he held his breath.
Instead, I went to his ear as closely as possible and whispered, "Go kiss the wall instead, you sick fuck."
I didn't know what else to say, but more so, I didn't want him to see that he was getting to me little by little. He was manipulative, calculating, and conniving.
"God," he let out a groan that sounded like a tortured animal. He closed his eyes tightly as if in pain. "You're such a tease, little tart..."
He banged his head a couple of times on the same wall he stopped me from banging my head down. He rested his head on it for a while.
I couldn't help but stare at his face and how peaceful it looked when his face was relaxed. I couldn't believe this was the cocky and arrogant man that held me hostage.
He suddenly opened his eyes and they were darker than I previously saw, his smirk was dirtier too. "I'll give you your wallet back if you kiss me."
"Are you kidding me? Seriously?" I shrieked exasperatedly. "This is essentially blackmailing!"
"Call it whatever you want," he grinned. "But yes, I do agree."
"Now you're just doing this on purpose! You're going to get what you want anyway, why don't you just do it?"
He paused, his brow raised. "Okay," he shrugged.
Before I can process what was happening, Min lifted me from the ground and placed me on his lap, and now, I was straddling him. His heavy eyes were the last thing I saw before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me towards his lips.
"Wait--"
I whined on his lips, trying my very best to push his hard chest with my fists, but all that did was instigate him to wrap his arms around me and pull me even closer.
Surprisingly, he wasn't rough with it, but he wasn't gentle either - just desperate. I felt his tongue lick my lips, pushing them apart. He moaned lowly when I wasn't giving in, and his moan got louder when I unconsciously scratched his chest at those unholy sounds.
"Baby, please let me in," he rasped, his lips giving mine little kitten pecks as he spoke through the kiss. "Here, take this."
He momentarily broke the kiss and put my wallet in my pockets for me. I was frozen, I could feel both of our heartbeats going very fast, and I gasped when his hand squeezed my hips firmly.
"I can't do this," I said breathlessly.
He hushed me, leaning in and kissing my jawline slowly. I tensed under his touch, and he stops to hold my face between his hands.
"Relax," his breath was shallow as he looked me in the eye. His intense eyes lingered on my nervous face. "I'll be gentle, okay? Just give in to me, kitten, please."
He was about to lean again, but his black glasses kept hindering the movement. He cursed under his breath as he tried to adjust it.
"Take it off for me," he demanded, his voice taut.
"How?" I gulped, my brain blank with all the overwhelming sensation he was giving me.
"Use your teeth."
Panic started to take over my body. I could feel it trying to push itself out of my stomach, my chest, my throat, my head. I wanted to throw up. I whimpered when his hand went up to my waist and pressed on it, a jolt of pleasure shot down to my clenching wetness.
I swallowed, leaning towards his face, tingles spreading through my scalp as his eyes never left me as I took the black frame in between my teeth and spit it out.
I gasped when I saw his eyes, not because of how heated and impassioned they were, but because of what they literally looked like - dark, seductive, desperate.
I felt my heart constricting tightly. He was painfully beautiful, and looked so dangerous.
"Come here," he growled, crashing his lips against mine once more.
I gasped in pain when he roughly tugged my hair back. I was so taken aback when he forcefully put his tongue in. I refused to let my tongue play with his, mewling and struggling from his hold.
"Oh," I moaned quietly when he bit my lower lip, suckling it gently with a force that knocked the air out of me.
"You're insane, doll, the woman you are," he voice was thick with lust. "You're turning me on even more."
"Stop!" I squealed in abrupt pleasure when his hips bucked up, his hardening erection suddenly pressing on my clothed mound.
An animalistic growl tore out from his chest when he dominantly grabbed my ass and started pushing me in and out, manually grinding me on his hardness fast and hard.
"Oh my fucking God," he grunted, burying his face on the crook of my neck as he pulled me harder. "Oh, God, oh, shit.."
I was moaning along with him, pathetically savouring the feel of my warm heat dry humping his bulging hardness. I was ashamed of myself, for imagining how big he was based on how he felt. 
The only thing to be heard in the empty subway station was our breaths, filthy kissing sounds, and the obscene moans from the both of us. Desire flowed through us, causing our bodies to melt against one another
He pulled away for a moment and I blushed at how red his face was and how bruised his lips already were. "I need to touch you," he croaked. "Can I touch you? I--"
"Hey, did you hear that?"
Cold reality washed over me as if a bucket of freezing ice was poured from my head in one go. I pushed him as hard as I could, as hard as my shame would take me, crawled out of his lap with disgust.
"Wait," he hissed, grabbing me by the arm as he stood up. I whimpered at his demeaning tone, but also how roughly he held my arm. 
"Silence," he growled at me. "There's people in here."
The look on his eyes as he stood up and looked around, surveying the area to find the source of the random voice we just heard from the distance was alarming, and they frightened me.
I was disconcerted, I just made out with this man, and how was now compared to what he looked like underneath me was a contrasting difference. His sharp eyes were terrifying, one look will have you submitting to his control.
I paled. I had almost forgotten was dangerous this man actually was - that I was his prey to consume, and he was determined to play with his food before he devoured it.
He pulled me in front of him, pushing me lightly as he guided me to walk until he reached a dark corner that would hide us from anyone. It's not the best hiding spot, but it was the fastest we could find.
But wait a minute, why were we hiding?
It was as if he knew what I was thinking and he covered my mouth with his hand before I could muster up a scream.
"Do not," he warned. "Nobody goes in this area unless they're looking for something," he paused, tensing up behind me. "Or someone."
My eyes widened when it clicked. He was right, this area was a well known spot for mob deals and other shady businesses. It was an unspoken secret that everyone knew, but chose not to comment on. An infamous eight-membered group ruled this area frequently, and while they never deemed terror, their name alone sparked chills on everyone.
Footsteps got closer and closer until there were two people who stood on the spot where me and Min were sitting down. I froze, they were mobsters - the black suits gave it away.
"I could have sworn I heard something in this area," a man with a shorter stature murmured, looking around in the darkness with a stony face.
"'Have' is the keyword," the other taller man with the most intimidating face mocked. "I'm going to kill him when I find him."
"Relax, Seonghwa. Don't get your panties in a twist."
The taller one, Seonghwa, glared hard at his companion. "And I'm going to kill you with him, Hongjoong, if you don't shut your face."
My captor scoffed lightly behind me, his breath fanning my ear. I elbowed him to shut up, and his jerk reaction was to tighten his hold on me. I wanted to scream, I didn't even notice his arms around me.
I felt him lift my hair up and move it to the side to expose my neck. I dug my nails on his arms at the pleasure he gave my sweet spots.
"You smell so good," he whispered sensually, sucking on my neck. I stifled a moan when he bit hard. "I want to hear you so bad," he groaned.
While the two mobsters bickered back and forth, there was me and Min hiding in a dark corner, hoping to not be seen, yet he's making it utterly difficult.
I staggered backwards, my mind swirling with nothing but bliss, my breaths shallow and heavy. His hands slowly trekked upwards..
"Wait no, please, we can't do this here," I pleaded, quickly stopping his hand from fondling my tits.
"We sure can," he pushed my hand away forcefully, but I used my other hand to scratch him. 
His body stiffened. "That wasn't very nice of you," he jeered. I gulped.
My paranoia triggered when his other hand wrapped around my throat, choking the words out of me. Whatever false sense of hope I had that he wouldn't hurt me when out the window.
"You've been testing me, little doll, and quite frankly?" He was indifferent, his voice not betraying his emotions. "I am getting sick and tired of it."
"Please," I whimpered when he squeezed the sides of my neck. "It doesn't feel good..."
He chuckled, something sinister lay brewing underneath. "But it does, don't lie to me."
I clawed his hand repeatedly, but he wasn't budging. "You said you wouldn't force me to do what I didn't want," I cried quietly.
"I know," he agreed. "But your eyes are telling me otherwise."
He pulled on the rope, forcing my wrists down permanently, as he went and did whatever his desires told him to do.
"Are you gonna be good if I let your neck go?" he asked in a deceptively soft voice. I nodded apprehensively. "That's a good girl."
He unbuttoned my blouse just enough for my bra to get exposed, and I had to suppress a moan when cold air hit my skin, but not for long as Min's hand hastily pushed my bra down to fully expose my average sized tits.
Soft groans escaped him as he roughly fondled them in his hands and I couldn't help my own groans. "Hush," he kissed my neck. "You don't want them to hear you."
He put his fingers at my open mouth and I used them to plug the sounds of pleasure threatening to spill out of me. God, his rough hands felt too good against my skin.
His mouth was on mine again as he held my stiff nipples with his nimble fingers. It sent jolts of desire all over my body.
"Do you feel good?" he murmured in between the kisses. When I ignored him, he bit my lower lip. "Answer me, love."
"Mhhm," I hummed, and he seemed to let that go for now.
I gasped when he squeezed them hard, the overstimulation of him alternating between rough and tender almost made me want to come undone. All I could do was mewl as he toyed with my body.
"I'll go to the other corner, Joong. Keep looking there," I heard Seonghwa mutter before his footsteps receded. I almost forgot they were still here.
"Doesn't the thrill feel good?" Min smirked, attacking my neck again and leaving pretty bruises on them.
"For you," I sighed. "You're the only one enjoying it. Seriously, how can you do this? How can you take advantage of me while we're supposed to be hiding from the mafia?"
"Ever so sarcastic, my pretty princess," he snorted.
While one hand massaged my tits, the other went south - going lower, lower, and lower until I felt him stop at the hem of my pants. My heart rate picked up.
"You're going to enjoy it too," he said softly. "I'm going to touch you, okay? I want to feel you, I need it so bad..."
The desperation in his voice caught me off guard, it shamefully made my pussy clench onto nothing as wetness covered it entirely.
"A-And if I say no?" I stuttered.
"I will push you out and give you to those two turds out there."
My blood ran cold. "You wouldn't," I gasped. He wouldn't let two mobsters who can kill me take me, right?
"My queen," he whispered, possessively pulling me closer in the tight space we were hiding in. "Remember this, I have never, and never will, given you opportunities where there was no way out of them."
I gulped. He was right, and I hated him for it, but that's what made him manipulative - he would give me these options that he carefully crafted and no matter what I chose, it will always end up with him getting what he wanted one way or another.
These options weren't for me to feel safe; he was merely giving me a chance to do things the easy way or the hard way, but either way, they were still his way.
"You were doomed the moment I laid my eyes on you," he stated darkly. "Oh, my sweet little peach..."
I closed my eyes tightly as he worked his way inside my pants, cupping the throbbing heat of my core. He nudged my legs apart with his foot, but I wasn't giving up.
"I'm not going to hurt you, okay?" he exhaled a sharp breath. "Relax, love, I'm going to make you feel good, I promise."
"I'm scared," I whimpered with raw honesty. Danger was still looming around us with Hongjoong and Seonghwa lingering around the area.
He didn't reply, instead he brushed his plump lips all over my neck and my now exposed shoulders. I couldn't help the tiny moans coming out of me as he worshiped my body gently. I suppose it worked, it calmed me down.
I heard his sharp intake of breath followed by a throaty moan when I leaned my head back against his shoulder so he could have access to my neck. "Stay like this," he groaned.
"Please," I choked when his fingers pushed my underwear apart and gently rubbed my slit up and down.
He grunted deeply, hungrily. "This is for me, yes?"
I whined at the absence of his touch when he pulled his fingers out and quickly reddened at the sight of his fingers coated with my juices within seconds of touching me.
It was obscene and it shouldn't have been so arousing, the wet sounds coming from my pussy when he parted my lips with his fingers again, but this time, he went straight into my clit, rubbing delicious circles on it.
My moans were borderline pornographic when he finally inserted a finger inside me and stars blinded my vision for a bit when he pinched my nipple at the same time. He slid his fingers in and out with a fastening pace, the wet sounds of it echoing all over the corner we were in.
"Shit, baby, your cunt feels so good, oh God," his deep moans kept hitting my ear and he smirked when I became impossibly wetter. "Say you want more, Y/N."
I whimpered in protest when his fingers stopped all of a sudden. "Fucking say it, then. Say you want more," he demanded with a furious growl.
"I want more!" I cried, tears falling from my eyes. "Please, Min, just please, I-I want more---ah!"
He roughly drove two fingers back in me and I could have exploded when he licked my tears. His long fingers were deep inside me, curling them as he searched for that particular spot. I bit his arm to avoid being too loud when he found it.
This angle had my swollen clit directly on his thumb and he applied pressure just enough until I started tightening on his fingers.
"We're leaving, there's nothing in here."
I'm not sure if that was Hongjoong or Seonghwa at this point, but I didn't care to know, I didn't realize how weird it was that they were announcing it at this time, not when Min had finally let loose when he practically dragged me out of our hiding spot.
He hastily took his cardigan off, set it down on the floor, and pushed me down on it so I could lay down on the floor. I yelped when he roughly shoved my pants down, leaving me completely exposed to him as he loomed on top of me.
And just like that, his fingers were back inside me again, sliding them in and out of me. The way his face looked in this light, I will never forget it. He looked more fucked out than me and he was the one getting me off.
"I-I think I'm, uhm," I moaned when his fingers down there got rougher, faster, harder and he just stared at me with lust-filled eyes as he finger fucked me.
"Tell me what you want, Y/N," he groaned. 
I feel my orgasm approaching me fast and hard like an oncoming train. He finger fucks me even faster than before as he took in my pleasure filled face.
"I'm so c-close," I moaned loudly. "M-Min, oh shit, Min---"
"Mingi," he grunted, his eyes never leaving mine. "My name is Mingi."
He leans over to kiss me quickly before leaning up again. "I want my name on your lips when you come, okay?"
"Mingi!"
With that, I let go. Wave after wave of pleasure plummet my body and I scream his name, his real name. He was moaning with me and I saw him resisting to close his eyes so he can watch me come until I was exhausted and shaking, until he couldn't. 
"Say my name," he growled, leaning down and burying his head on my neck as he slowed his fingers down. "Say my fucking name."
My throat was hoarse by the time I was done wailing his name. I was out of it for a while, Min - Mingi - kept giving me tiny little kisses here and there wherever his lips touched. He shushed me as he let go for a while, pulling out and sucking the fingers he used to make me come.
I watched him put my underwear and pants back on as if he didn't just give me the most mind blowing orgasm. When the ecstasy subsided and died down, I wept. 
"You're okay," he would keep assuring, lifting me from the ground and embracing me in his hard chest. "Shh, don't cry. You did so well for me..."
He buried my face on his shoulders as he embraced me, patting my back soothingly as I let my tears fall from the overwhelming feeling my body felt.
I am so ashamed of myself. This was wrong. I wasn't supposed to want my captor, the one who kept blackmailing me. I felt immense guilt and distraught. The pleasure I felt was so good, but it made me feel so dirty.
"I am no different than a harlot," I sniffled against his skin.
He sighed deeply. "You're not."
We stayed like that for a while - me just letting my feelings pass and him patiently waiting for me to finish. He would whisper comforting words as he gave me pecks here and there, wiping my tears away. It felt so wrong.
"So," I cleared my throat, pulling away from him and sitting beside him instead. "Song Mingi, huh?"
He nodded. "How do I know you're not lying?" I questioned, the doubt clear on my face.
Mingi looked a little offended. "My queen," he spoke. "I may have tweaked our deals a little bit, but I never lied to you once."
I hate how right he was. "Stop calling me that," I murmured. "It feels a little intimate. Why do you keep calling me that?"
Mingi smirked at me, taking my wrists in his hand and working on the knots. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
My eyes widened. "No," I rejected. "No more deals, please."
He laughed that deep and attractive laugh of his, concentrating on untying the rope, tugging on it repeatedly, until it became loose, and he guided my hands until I was completely free. I breathe a sigh of relief, pulling my hands to myself and stretching them over and over to make them mobile again.
"What's the catch?" I frowned. He wouldn't just do this for free.
"God, I love how perceptive you are," Mingi remarked flirtatiously. "But no, nothing. I just want to get you cleaned up."
He juts his finger in a random direction. "I have my car outside, we can clean you up there. I have water too. Then you can go."
I was at a loss for words. "Really?"
"Really," Mingi confirmed.
When I gave him the 'go' signal, Mingi proceeded to carry me in his arms, swooping me in one go, and he carried me like a blushing bride. I wasn't a bride, but I was blushing. I knew he was strong, but this was crazy strong. I wasn't the lightest person out there.
I didn't even protest when he started walking out of there, I was too tired to argue, and I saw his eyes twinkle when I leaned my head on his chest as he walked.
"You were never going to ride the train in the first place, weren't you?" I whispered all of a sudden. He had a car outside of a subway station.
Mingi raised a brow as he looked down on me. "No."
"And those two mobsters, the mafia, they were looking for you."
He was smirking this time. "Yes."
"You were going to escape from them, weren't you?"
"Sure."
"What do you owe them?"
"I'm afraid I can't answer that, my queen."
"Please?"
Mingi pauses, staring at me. Then he sighs and relents. "Money."
"Is that what was in your backpack?"
"Do you actually want to get fucked? You're still very sentient, babydoll. Maybe my dick will shut you up---"
"You forgot your glasses inside!" I blurted out, my voice raising by one pitch in embarrassment. I felt my face heating up with his straightforwardness.
Mingi gives me a confused, incredulous look before he opens the door to his car and sets me down comfortably on the plush seats. "I never needed them," he cryptically said.
"Nice ride," I murmured, taking in the luxurious interior and the modern technology attached to it.
He hummed in response, handing me a bottle of water to which I drank greedily. It could have been poisoned, but at the moment, it was the least of my concerns. He lowered the windows so I could also use the water to rinse my face and hands.
"What now?" I questioned.
Mingi gave me a small smile. "You can do whatever you want, go home if you will."
"You sure?" I blurted out before realizing how stupid that was.
He laughed, realizing it as well. "I'm sure, Y/N."
It felt surreal at the moment. It was as if what happened between us was just a figment of my imagination, and it made me even more anxious. It was a little too easy.
"How am I gonna get home at this time," I sighed to myself rather than question it. It was well after midnight and the buses were all gone at this point and I didn't have enough money to get a cab. 
"You know how to drive?" he lazily asked, looking at the distance out into the empty city.
"Yeah, I do," I replied, not sure where he was going with this.
Mingi nodded, tossing me the keys, and I caught it in surprise. "She's all yours," he said.
My eyes widened. "W-What?"
"The car, Y/N, it's yours now," he chuckled. "Drive home, and take care of her for me, yes? She was my favourite."
"Hold the hell on, Mingi," I blabbered. "Are you high right now? You can't just say things like that!"
"Think of it as a gift," he shrugged. 
I stared at him in confusion when he got out and walked around the car, knocking on the passenger window where I was. I quickly crawled to the driver's seat and pressed the window open.
"H-How about you? How will you go home?" I stammered, genuinely concerned. "I'm just borrowing your car, right?"
He smirked, shaking his head. "No. Don't worry, I have more where that came from."
"You used the money you stole from the mafia?"
His eyes widened a bit before he burst out laughing. "More or less," he snorted. "But seriously, do you not like it?"
I scoffed. "Of course I do, this is a Bugatti, for fuck's sake!" 
"Ah," he dismissed. "It's a Centodieci, it's not that much." 
Damn right, I thought. I suppose I deserve this after all the crap and assault he subjected me to, but still, it felt wrong.
When he saw me biting my lip, hesitating, Mingi chuckled, and he was about to answer, but headlights suddenly blinded both of us. "Well," he spoke, tapping the car twice. "My ride's here."
My heart lurched out of my chest. The way Mingi was looking at me, I can't stand it. He was looking at me like I was the brightest star in the universe and the best thing he could do was stare at it because he couldn't reach it. Mngi began walking away, straight to the other car, but I stopped him.
"Mingi, hold on," I called out. He paused from his steps, looking back at me expectantly. My words got stuck in my throat, and the only thing I could say was, "I'll see you around."
He chuckled, low and sinister, and I was thrown into a whiplash. "You don't want that, doll, trust me," he shook his head. "Don't tempt me right now."
"W-Why?"
He opened the door of the other car, leaning on it as he stared at me with a dark look in his eyes. "I'm giving you a chance to run," he professed.
Right. I forgot how manipulative he was. "So run, Y/N, run far, far away," he continued, a daunting smirk on his face, "Because you're mine if we meet again."
And with that, he got in the car and it drove away, leaving me to stare at it as it disappeared from my view.
What did that even mean?
I drove away, apprehensively I might add, to get home. It was a breeze, I hate that I am now very in love with it. I got extremely dizzy when I realized it was voice powered too. Out of curiosity, I asked how much this car cost.
Bugatti Centodieci, top of the line, costs $8.8 million dollars as of 2024...
I almost swerved off the lane when I heard it. Was Mingi crazy? I scoffed, laughing maniacally. 
Who was he? This can't be right. My insides quivered, no way it was this easy, surely there was a catch in between? He was cunning, what if him giving me the car was a part of his stupid games? I wouldn't put it past him.
And so, I drove home with an underlying guilt and heartbreak.
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Mingi filled my thoughts all day and all night for the past month.
He was like a barnacle that didn't want to unstick from me and truth be told, it was getting extremely tiring. No matter what I did, I always saw him. I haven't been on any subway or train stations at all.
The worst part was that I didn't exactly know what this feeling was. At first, I thought it was fear - I was scared that he would come knocking on my door one day and claim me against my will, but no, nothing had happened.
I had so many questions left unanswered, questions that were giving me nothing but grievances, and in hindsight, a part of me wanted to see him again.
"Are you going to go have drinks with everyone tonight, Y/N?"
I paused from walking to turn around and found my co-worker, Wooyoung, at the restaurant where we both worked.
"I'm not too sure, Woo, I'm not really feeling well as of lately," I told him truthfully. This is Mingi's fault.
Wooyoung gives me a worried glance. "Everything okay, Y/N? Are you feeling sick?" he asked with a frown. 
I gave him a halfhearted grin. He was always very sweet and I loved that about him. "Don't worry Woo, I'm just going to go home and rest," I twirled my car keys between my fingers and Wooyoung eyes it.
His eyes comically widen. "Wow, Y/N, you drive a car like that?" he says excitedly. "You always rode the bus though..."
I raised a brow. Has he always been this observant? Before I can question it, he snaps his fingers happily. "Can I see it? My brothers don't want me to drive," he pouted.
"Sure," I laughed and I guided him in the parking lot. "I overheard you talking to the others and mentioning that you had seven brothers?"
Wooyoung laughed. "Ah, that. We're not blood related, but we've been together all our lives. Blood isn't always thicker than water..."
We continued talking until I pointed the car to him. I started to go towards it, but I halted when I heard Wooyoung's sharp intake of breath. His eyes were wide as he stared at the black Bugatti, and I was amused.
"Where did you get this?" he inquired, his tone firm, his eyes piercing.
I was taken aback with Wooyoung's shift of attitude. He walked confidently towards the car, lightly trailing his fingers on the hood. Long gone was the cheery boy I knew him for. 
"It's you," I heard him whisper.
My heart palpitated faster and faster when he walked towards me. "Stay here," was all he said when he walked away and called somebody.
I was so damn confused, what the hell was going on? Did Wooyoung know me outside of work? Oh God, I hope he didn't think I stole the car! I mean I get it, I earn shit in the restaurant as a server so I'd understand why he would think that.
Against my better judgment, I ran away from the parking lot into nowhere in particular. There was something dark looming over him in that odd conversation and I didn't want to be part of whatever that was.
As I was running hastily, I dropped the car keys. Cursing under my breath, I went back and tried to find where it dropped. I frowned when I realized where I was - in an isolated dark alley.
"Aha!" I exclaimed when I saw the keys and bent down to pick it up, but a foot stepped on it before I did.
I looked up to see three hooligans - tattoos, dank breath, yellowed eyes, you name it - grinning maliciously at me. I paled and it rendered me paralyzed.
"Well boys, looks like we got a jackpot right over here," the biggest man with the ugliest looking face grinned disgustingly. "You're the owner of that black baby in that parking lot!"
They all laughed rambunctiously to themselves. I was frightened, but I wanted to kick myself. Of course, the expensive car would've caught someone's eye sooner or later, but I didn't think it would be like this.
"P-Please," I whimpered, tears springing up my eyes. "I-I'll give it to you, you can have it, just don't hurt me..."
I gasped sharply when a skinny looking man grabbed me by my face and ogled. "You're hot," he leered. I almost threw up but I held it in. "Wanna play with us, doll? We'll give you a good time!
Tears started falling from my eyes. Mingi called me his doll, and it sounded heavenly from his lips. When they said it, I felt extremely insulted and violated.
"No, no, please!" I screamed when one of them held my arms and restrained me. "Stop!"
"Hold still!"
"No!" I bellowed. "I didn't get to where I am just to be manhandled by fuc---"
I choked, a stinging sensation on my right crippling me, the backhanded slap on my face was stronger than I thought and I hit the pavement below me. Was this the end? I groaned painfully when I felt myself being dragged on the ground. 
My tears were free falling as I felt hands grope me in places I didn't want them to, but I couldn't do anything, black spots danced on my vision, but I still yelled, hoping someone would hear me. 
"Stop it, please, take the car!" I shrieked, thrashing around, but that earned me another slap on the face.
"Damn, bitch, don't you ever shut up?" They laughed disgustingly. I cried out when I felt hands trying to lift my shirt up. "We're going to have so much fun---"
"What's going on here?"
The three hobos paused from their tracks, and froze when they saw the owner of the voice. I was in a haze, I probably had a concussion at this point. I could only hope that the new voice was here to help me...
I lay helplessly on the dirty ground and even though that felt terrible, at least I didn't feel their hands on me anymore, but I could still hear their conversation very well.
"B-Boss, greetings to you and your brothers," I heard them say as they bowed 90 degrees from where they stood.
In the distance, I saw three men standing straight, arms crossed in their chests except the one at the very front. I shrinked onto myself. They were the mafia.
They were Ateez, the 'A' symbol they wear on their suits was a dead giveaway. I panicked when I put two and two together. Were they going to hurt me too?
"Why are you imbeciles disturbing the peace?" a built man with the fiercest eyes I have ever seen sighed. He had this interesting reddish, pinkish hair.
"Wait," the other man with the deeper voice said. This one was handsome, his greenish, blackish hair suited him well. "You fuckers can't get it up so you terrorize a woman?"
"B-But, we know her," the three hoodlums lied. "We swear!"
A sudden panic attack tightens my chest and my breathing turns shallow. I'm so scared, and I am in pain right now. I groaned  and everybody turned to look at me, but my haze couldn't make out faces clearly, especially their expressions.
Green haired man smirked. "Yeah?" he pointed at me. "Doesn't seem like it."
"I should kill you sons of bitches here," the pink haired one snarled, grabbing the gun he had and pointing it straight.
"Please, brother, spare us!" they shouted over and over again. I panicked, whimpering my ears to soothe the oncoming migraine I felt. I panicked even more when I realized I had blood, probably from my fall.
"Shut the fuck up---"
"San."
My eyes fluttered open as the world around slowly started to fade. That voice...
"Put the gun down," the third and last person spoke - the presumed boss. His voice was deep, calming, yet it induced fear in me.
"Why?" pink hair, San, growled.
"I won't tell you twice."
I tried, I really did, my best to glance at the tall man with the most lulling voice, at least to my ears. He was familiar, I just know that he was, it was breaking my heart trying to remember somebody who I couldn't at the moment. 
I knew one thing - he was painfully beautiful, and the way he looked at me, it was like I was the brightest star in the universe, only this time, he can reach me and not just stare at me from afar.
He stepped forward, his strides powerful and domineering, and his eyes never leaving mine. There was something about him that felt different; he was dominant, compelling, and more dangerous than the other two.
"Step aside, maggots," he stated calmly, but so commanding.
"Boss, n-no offense," one brute interrupted, the one that slapped me to the pavement. "W-We really like t-this one, if you may--"
"Move."
"B-But---"
I saw the head mobster glance to his right. "Yeosang." 
Green hair, Yeosang, nodded once and proceeded to roughly shove the thugs, apparently also mafia henchmen, to the side, giving them little punches and kicks here and there. 
My head lolls and the muscles on my neck barely keep up with me. I can feel myself slowly slipping away. A shadow covers my view. He was so intimidating. He reaches his hand out, and I cower in response.
"No," I groggily shoved the head mafia's hand away from me. "Don't hurt me..."
He sighed, crouching down and sitting me down despite my protests. "Little dove, you know I would never," he whispered.
My heart started beating out of control as I stared at him closer. He was wearing this bluish suit along with a white dress shirt. Through my blurry vision, I can tell that he was the most attractive man I have ever seen in my life. I don't think anyone would come close...
I frowned. That train of thought. This wasn't the first time...
"Boss, my liege," I heard the ruffians speak. "Why are you forsaking us, your brothers, for some whore?"
I whimpered when I saw him take his sunglasses of, his eyes twitching, a glare of emotional coldness and complete disregard of anyone. It was terrifying.
"You dare call your queen a whore?"
That voice, that deep timbre, it brought a sense of relief to me. "Mingi?" I inhaled, shaking when it hit me.
His facade drops a bit, his eyes shining in relief, before it turns stone hard again. 
The world seemed to stop for a moment, and the world never stopped for somebody like me. I was too far gone to acknowledge the sharp gasps.
I felt myself being carried and I automatically leaned into his hard chest. I was supposed to be terrified, frightened, but I was not. Everything seemed right at the moment and even if my head didn't know, my heart did.
I've felt this way before. I've been carried like this before. I've been in his safe embrace, wrapped in his heady scent.
I felt him plant a small kiss on my forehead as he carried me out of the alleyway. "You're safe now," Mingi whispered. "Let's go home, okay?" 
I resisted, not wanting to go out just yet, but the tiredness and dizziness was catching up to me. As Mingi was about to completely walk out and go inside a car when we were stopped.
"Min, what do you want to do with them?" San asked. He then turned to me and bowed a bit. "Greetings, our queen."
I frowned, but that quickly turned into aghast when I watched Mingi hand Yeosang a handgun. "Beat the fuck out of them, Sannie, yeah?" he smirked sadistically.
He turned to Yeosang next with a smirk. "Then use that," he beamed darkly. "And use it well. Do not let me down, Yeo."
San and Yeosang look at each other, their eyes glazed with ruthless vigor. "With pleasure," Yeosang smirked. 
I kept going in and out of consciousness every twenty minutes or so. I was in the backseat of a car. 
And Mingi wasn't helping either. When I would try to shrug him off to just lay on my side to relax, he would possessively grab onto my waist and pull me to him.
"Stop it," I whined. "Thank you for saving me, but that doesn't give you the pass to touch me."
He hummed, not even bothering to respond. I wasn't in the mood for his bullshit today, so I shrug him off harder.
"Enough," he warned, a slight edge to his voice. "A month ago, you couldn't do it even if you tried." I hissed when he grasped my waist tighter. "It's like you never learned your lesson."
I blushed at the memory despite the haze. "Where are you taking me?" I cleared my throat pathetically. "My apartment is close to here."
Mingi stared at me before chuckling slowly. "Oh, you sweet, summer child..."
I shivered both in anticipation and fright. I can't be sarcastic with him like I did the last time I was with him. Song Mingi wasn't a regular person, I know that now. I have a sneaking suspicion who he was exactly, but the matter at hand wasn't that.
"Mingi, please, not now," I pleaded when he leaned towards me, stopping only a few inches from mine.
"You have forgotten what I told you before we parted ways," he murmured with a small smirk on his lips. "Surely, you didn't forget me that quick?"
"How could I forget you?" I glared. "You are the most insufferable person I have ever met." 
He smirked. "How could you forget?" I held my breath when he whispered softly. "When your cunt took my fingers so well?"
I inhaled a sharp breath when he gave my lips a small peck. "You're mine now," he whispered. "Don't you ever forget that."
I was about to retort something stupid, but I couldn't when I groaned in pain, clutching my head when a sudden headache stopped me.
"You're bleeding, my sweet pea," Mingi frowned, his fingers lightly touching the dried, caked blood on my forehead. He tutted. "That fuckface. Come here."
My cheeks reddened when Mingi lifted me and placed me on his lap. I instinctively wrapped my arms around him for support. "Jongho," he called, his deep, commanding voice booming all over the car with authority.
"Here," I heard a voice towards the front. I groaned when we hit a road bump.
"Careful, Jjong. Easy on the road," I heard Mingi sigh while he was rubbing my back in a slow manner. It was honestly soothing.
"Sorry," the driver, at least I assume him to be, apologized. "I've been driving for a while now, where to?"
There was a slight pause. "Doll?" Mingi whispered directly in my ear. "You're going to have to stay awake for us, okay?"
I buried my head on the crook of his neck, breathing in his comforting scent. "My head hurts," I whimpered. "They hurt me really bad..."
"Shh, I know, I know. Can you sleep?" he tenderly asked, his arms wrapping around me tighter. I nodded in response.
"That's a good girl," he said. "Yunho's, then. Think you can reach there in thirty, Jjong?"
"Of course," Jongho snorted. "But only if I get to stay and not clean up after Yeo and Sannie. They're brutes."
"Look at you telling me what to do," Mingi raised a brow when Jongho gave him a sheepish smile. "Fine. Wooyoung will do it."
""But I'm worried about her," Jongho glanced at me through the rear mirror. "She might get nauseous."
"I'm fine," I snapped, burying my head deeper into Mingi's neck. "Just fucking drive before my head splits in two. I'll apologize to you later."
I felt bad for cursing at him, given that this was the first time I've ever seen him. My first impression was the least of my concerns.
Both of them laughed for a couple of seconds. "I see you picked the right one," I heard Jongho chuckling at Mingi, his eyes glinting in amusement, but there was that same darkness that he held. "Hang tight, our queen."
Everything was such a blur afterwards, all I knew was that I wanted to rest and forget about everything. The moment my head hit the pillow, it was game over.
When I woke up, I found myself with the most agonizing headache. I clutched onto my head, it certainly felt like my skull was trying to get out of my head.
It took me a while to realize that I wasn't in my own room, rather, I was in the most luxurious room with the plushest king-sized bed, wrapped in the most velvety blanket and surrounded by the softest pillows.
Everything hit me at once - my overnight shift, almost being forced against my will, to being in Mingi's car. I was mad at myself for being so damn weak that I can't even fight back when the need arose. If Mingi and his group didn't come in time, I just know I'd be dead by now.
Or worse, sold off. That was absolutely worse than being dead.
"You're awake."
I looked around to find the source of the voice and there he was. At the foot of the bed, a tall man stood. He was taller than Mingi, and Mingi was damn tall, himself.
"Who are you?" I asked with a frown.
"The owner of this house," he beamed. "My name is Yunho, our queen. Jeong Yunho."
He rolled a cart with antiseptics and more medical stuff out to the side. "You're a doctor," I declared, touching my forehead to find it all cleaned and healed up.
He nodded. "Luckily you didn't need any stitches, just a couple of bandages. Mingi can help you replace them later."
My heart skipped a beat at the name. "Speaking of," I cleared my throat. "Where is he?"
He smiled widely at me. He seemed nice, definitely reminding me of a puppy. "Doing some...stuff."
"I know what he does," I said. "Of what you guys do, more or less."
"I'm sure you do," he chuckled. "Mingi is not a subtle person."
He crossed his arms as he walked closer to my side of the bed. "You're very interesting," he remarked with a smile. "I can see why he's drawn to you."
"What do you mean, Yunho?"
"Well, for one, you didn't freak out when you saw me. The usual response to a random stranger in your bedroom is not nonchalance."
I squinted my eyes at him. I shouldn't conclude my thoughts about these people from looks alone; no one is who they seem to be here.
"You're observant," I commented.
"Yes. He can observe his way out of this room, as well."
Yunho laughed and I scoffed loudly when we both turned around and saw Mingi leaning on the door with his arms crossed.
"No thank you, Mangi?" Yunho approached Mingi with his arms wide open.
"Get out," Mingi ordered.
"Oh, come on now, I just wanted to check up on our queen," Yunho teased.
"Get out," Mingi repeated, raising his voice a little.
"But I want to know how you guys met--"
"Get," Mngi gritted his teeth. "Out."
"Okay, okay, goddamn," Yunho raised his hands out in response and beelined the hell out of the room, but not before waving at me jokingly and laughing on the way out.
The atmosphere was so awkward, it filled the massive room with uncertainty. I couldn't even look Mingi in the eye, for fear of him doing something to me. I was at the mercy of his presence, and in his property. He can do whatever he wants and none would be the wiser.
"I must say, Y/N," he began to speak, making me jump a bit in surprise.  "Had I known that the next time I'd you see was being cornered by dead motherfuckers, I would have never let you go that night."
"Dead?" I squeaked.
Mingi smirked, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. "They will be soon."
He was at the very end of the room, but he was so unnerving. But by God, Mingi was the devil wrapped in an angel's grace. I didn't even recognize him at first.
He was wearing this tight, long-sleeved muscle fit shirt that emphasized just how bigger Mingi actually was. He had no glasses on, allowing me to see through his sharp and calculating eyes, and his dark hair was completely down, his bangs covered his entire forehead. 
It was such a contrast to the very first time I saw him, and to be completely honest, I wasn't sure which one was worse - him wearing a casual outfit with the same dangerous, murderous aura was deceiving.
"You," I gulped. "You are the devil."
He titled his head in a menacing angle. "How so?"
"You know exactly what I mean, you took me here without even asking for my consent, Mingi!"
He stayed silent, staring at me with the same indifference he always had. It irritated me, more so now I knew who he really was.
"You lead the mob, you own the people," I whispered, hugging a pillow for comfort. "God, it all makes sense. The conniving, manipulative, boorish attitude, the fear you instill on everyone who knew you, and how you found me point blank."
"I didn't," Mingi denied. "Wooyoung found you. He called me. He is a brother of mine."
"You lied to me," I growled. "You lied about everything, you bastard-- don't come any closer."
Mingi began walking towards me, but paused in the middle of the room when I told him to stop. "I asked if you were in the mob," I continued. "You said no. But not only that, hid the fact that you had power. All you ever did was lie."
Mingi narrowed his eyes on me, rage slowly building into them, then it was gone. His self-control had always been worth of applause. "I never lied to you," he said in annoyance. "Everything I told you has been the damn truth from the start, Y/N."
"I own the gang, Y/N. I am the mafia, so no, I am not the mob," Mingi hissed. "I gave you every opportunity to wiggle your way out, I never gave you opportunities--"
"Opportunities that you tailored to suit whatever you wanted?!" I interjected, my voice raising significantly. "As if I had any choice? You assaulted me, Mingi, you took advantage of any weakness I had and exploited it for your gain!"
He smirked, his true colours overtaking the gentleness he put on. "But I do, I do care for you," he remarked. "Your perceptiveness kills me, though. It's not my fault we crossed paths again."
"You were going to give me to the enemy when we were hiding at the station," I accused harshly. "Crossing paths wasn't the issue, you had no problem selling me out!"
"I wasn't going to," Mingi shook his head.
"You wanted to touch me, you were going to push me off to them--"
"Hongjoong and Seonghwa, you mean?" 
Mingi sighed, rubbing his temples with both of his hands. "Okay, fine, I might have lied to you with that one," he shrugged. "Joong is my best hunter, and Hwa is my right hand man."
Dread filled my body. Every opportunity that he gave me, even if he had pushed me to Hongjoong and Seonghwa, I would have never been in trouble. I would have ended up with Mingi, regardless.
"You snake," I seethed. "You manipulated me!"
"Remember," Mingi grinned sadistically. "I gave you the option to get away. Hongjoong would have let you go, he's always been soft, you see," he scoffed. "You chose to stay with me."
With that, tears fell from my eyes. Mingi's eyes softened at the sobs that wracked my body. He never lied, everything matched up, but his manipulations knew no bounds. Had I not been blinded by the temporary lust that made my body shake, I would have read between the lines.
"Seonghwa said he was going to kill you, how could I have known?" I hiccuped in between the sobs and tears.
I saw him reach out his hand to me, wanting to touch me, but hesitated when he saw how pitiful I looked. "Please don't cry, little dove," he whispered. "Will you calm down if I explain everything from the start?"
I looked up at him with my tear-stained eyes, nodding apprehensively. "Listen to me, my Y/N," he began. "I never lied to you, and I'm not lying when I say it hurts me to see you cry.
He walked towards the end of the bed and sat on it, far from me. "I was there for a deal with another mob, they screwed me over, so I stole their cash," he explained like it was no big deal. "The rope and the knife was theirs. It was for me."
I winced, the memory of Mingi tying me up making me cringe. "I'll spare you the details. I had to secure the place, why do you think the whole station was empty?"
I stared at him, and he stared back. That look again, I can't stand it. He was looking at me like I was the brightest star in the universe, but this time, I was slipping further and further away from him.
"I am a very thorough person, my pretty girl," he smiled at my blush.  "I could have sworn I blocked off every single entrance in there. So tell me, how the hell did you get in?"
My blush deepens, and I lower my head in embarrassment. "I-I saw there was a barricade," I stammered. "I, uhm, jumped over it. I was too tired to go the long way."
Mingi laughed, his deep voice reaching me in places I didn't know existed. "I see," he smirked.
How could I be so stupid? The deserted area should have been a massive sign that something was very wrong.
"The train that came after a little," he continued. "That was my getaway ride. Those two were probably pissed when I wasn't on it, especially Seonghwa."
I was mortified all of a sudden. I groaned and Mingi turned to look at me in amusement. Hongjoong and Seonghwa probably heard us going at it and doing vulgar things in a place where we weren't supposed  to be doing it.
"I didn't lie when I said I owed them money," he said, his tone soft and gentle. It was like we were in that train station all over again. It was moments like these when my heart would question itself and its validity.
"Yeah, you just conveniently forgot to mention that it was technically your money too," I mumbled in resentment.
"I got a little carried away with you and forgot to give it to them," he shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know how, you drive me crazy."
"That doesn't give you the excuse to shackle me with you and manipulate me to do your bidding," I glared fiercely at him, my voice breaking with every emotion I had.
"I know, my love, I know," he sighed deeply, shifting uncomfortably on the bed and turning his whole body to face me. 
I wasn't going to tell him that I never stopped thinking about him even after he left, and I wasn't going to tell him that he had won - even if I didn't want to, I felt something for him. But I was mad, and he doesn't deserve me.
There wasn't a day where I never blamed myself for feeling the way I did. I really was no different than a whore.
"I didn't think I'd see you again after that night," he admitted.
I was puzzled and confused. "What do you mean?" I frowned. "I was in fear of you, Mingi. Everyday I was paranoid that you changed your mind and would come knocking at my door to take me."
He chuckled lightly. "No, dollface. I didn't even know where you lived."
I stared at him apprehensively. "There was no tracking in the car?" The doubt was clear on my face. "Don't you mafia people do that? GPs everything that moved?"
"You would be correct, but no," he shook his head. "Not that one. That was my personal car. Not the mob boss' car, just regular Song Mingi. It's not connected to the business."
"You're lying," I objected, my chest tightening with how my heart beated.
"How many times do I have to tell you?" Mingi sighed. "Call me whatever you want, a bastard, a son of a bitch, the devil incarnate. I may con my way and twist the truth, but Y/N, you should know by now that I am not a liar."
I swallowed the lump that blocked my throat from breathing in and out. "Not to you," Mingi confessed. "I care very deeply about you."
I couldn't help the shock that resonated onto my face and expression. "You really intended to give me that car?" I croaked. 
He nodded without hesitation. "Yes, love. Yes, I did."
Something in my chest exploded, all the emotions and how I felt threatening to bubble up within me. "I hate you," I whispered.
Mingi heard it though. "What?" he frowned.
I was very angry at this point. "Is this part of your games again, Song Mingi?" I spat, tossing the blankets away from my body.
"My love, please calm down," he pleaded.
"No!" I screeched, standing up and inching away from him and the bed. "I don't need your stupid car after you took advantage of me, you slimy little snake."
I began pulling my hair out in frustration. "You could have let me go," I cried out. "But instead, you didn't and you toyed with me and my body!"
"Y/N, stop it," he warned, standing up, himself, and trying to reach for me, but all it did was make me back away more.
"You think the car would absolve everything?" I seethed, making my way to the door, intending to leave. "You could have approached me like a normal person, I might have given you a chance to woo me--" 
I grabbed my arms and spun me around swiftly. "Mingi, let go--"
"You don't understand," Mingi hissed, his eyes had the mafia leader's anger in them, scaring me a little. "You don't get it all, Y/N."
"Mingi, please--"
"I had  every intention of letting you go that night," he snarled. "When I said I never thought I'd see you again, I meant it. I was really letting you go." 
"You asshole, I hate you!" I screamed in defiance.
Mingi scoffed. "Really?" he squinted his eyes at me and pulled me into him, embracing me. It effectively halted me, I wasn't expecting it.
"That car was yours," he whispered. "If you really detested me, you could have sold it and gotten rid of every trace of me."
"And have you kill me for doing so? I think not."
"I wouldn't have known. If it had GPS, I would have tracked it somewhere else."
I cursed under my breath. There was no fooling him. "I wish you sold it," he said. "You could have lived comfortably and I would have rested easy knowing you had enough money so you wouldn't work at night anymore."
I shivered when he tucked my hair behind my ears. "What if someone else got you first? What if they had worse intentions?"
"I want you," he continued when I didn't reply. "I wanted you for myself, to take you and do whatever I damn well pleased."
He tilted my chin gently, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "I wanted to fuck you that night. Hard. Fast. Rough."
That caught me off guard. My face heated up in response.
"But I couldn't," he sighed before I could fully internalize what he said. "I didn't want this life for you. There was too much danger around me..."
He touched my forehead before leaning in and giving the bandaged wound a peck. "I should have come sooner before they did this to you."
I realized that passion was often mistaken for aggression. Mingi had too much of both. "You didn't send Wooyoung to spy on me?" I asked.
Mingi shook his head. "Wooyoung working with you was a sheer coincidence."
"It's not too late, you can still let me go," I tried to convince him. "You can let me go, once and for all."
He shook his head, his hold on me tightening. "No," he flatly said. Desperation swam in his eyes. "I let you go once, and that month was my worst. You're mine now, you hear me?"
The way he looked at me, I was the brightest star in his universe, and he finally had caught up to me. Then Mingi let me go, his eyes darkening into something foreboding; something more sinister.
"Strip."
It took a moment for me to understand what he said, and when I did, my eyes widened. "W-What?"
His eyes never left mine. "You heard me," he said. "Take your clothes off."
I took a step back from him and Mingi's jaw hardened when he saw me. "What are you doing?" he clenched his teeth, his voice taut.
"Mingi, please," I pleaded.
"Please what?" he growled. "Take your fucking clothes off, Y/N. I'm going to fuck you."
My chest fell up and down with how rough my breathing became. Mingi's scowl deepened when he saw me not moving an inch. He proceeded to take his shirt off and throw it randomly somewhere.
I gulped, taking in his physique. I knew he was toned, but seeing him up close made my brain go haywire with want. My brows shot up as I stared at the tattoo I didn't know he had on his left chest. It was an 'A' in a circle - an anarchy symbol, or rather, the Ateez emblem.
"Are you going to hurt me?" I whimpered.
His eyes narrowed in irritation. "No. Come here," he ordered. He had a demanding presence. The suffocating domination he had on me was daunting, but I wasn't going to give in to him.
I stood frozen in my spot for a few more seconds before I backed up again. Mingi slowly crept up to me, he looked like a predator more than ever.  I backed up even faster until my back hit the wall. Panic surged through me when Mingi reached me.
He put his arms on either side of the wall, trapping me in. "Where are you going to go?" he sneered.
Before I could respond, Mingi ripped my nightgown off swiftly in the middle and lifted me easily in his arms, tossing me effortlessly on the bed. I screamed for dear life as he hovered over me.
"Song Mingi! What the fuck are you doing to her?!” I heard someone scream from outside the room.
"Fuck off!" Mingi roared angrily.
I trembled beneath him. He looked so much bigger than me when he was on top of me like this. I covered my bare breasts with my arms, but Mingi wasn't having it.
His eyes roamed hungrily over me. "No, babydoll," he smirked, grabbing my hands roughly and pinning them down on the bed. "You do not cover your tits around me, got it?"
I nodded as he devoured me with his eyes. I gasped when he leaned down and began sucking them. The stimulation was overwhelming - he would alternate between sucking and nipping my nipples gently.
"Mingi, please wait," I whimpered pathetically when he let go of one of my hands to fondle my tits.
I shook my head frantically and a choked cry was torn from my when  his other hand wrapped around my neck. He lifted his head up to glare at me.
"Stay still," he barked.
I felt his tongue lick my lips, trying to push them apart. I whined in reluctance, trying to turn my head away, but Mingi quickly let my neck go to the back of my head and tugged my hair roughly on his hands. I cried out and struggled when he bit my bottom lip.
I inhaled a deep breath sharply when he pulled away to stare at me as I shuddered. I tensed when he started leaning down again slowly. He let go of my hair to press a thumb on my jaw, smirking darkly as he forced my mouth open.
"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured. "Naked, shaking like a leaf, and all mine."
He ravaged my mouth once more, tugging on my hair a little bit. When I refused to cooperate, he murmured another warning against my mouth, this time with more threat. His tongue played with mine, and he groaned against me, and plunged his tongue deeper.
I felt my body trembling more, the wetness down there was becoming impossible to ignore at his touch, and I was aching for relief at this point.
Tears fell from my eyes at the roughness and tenderness he was making me feel, and I felt nothing but confusion. He wiped my tears away with his fingers.
"Don't cry," he whispered.
"C-Can we do this next time?" I begged.
His penetrating glare left me fumbling for words, and yet submissive to his touch, unsure if I should hate him for doing this, or liking it because it was him. 
I knew one thing, I felt undeniably safe with him.
"Darling, please, I'm not going to hurt you," Mingi pleaded when I began thrashing around, trying to get away from his criminal hold, by pushing his body towards me. "You want this just much as I do--"
"Fuck you," I spat on his face. Shock filled his face as he wiped the spit absentmindedly.
His eyes widened before mania and fury fueled his features. "Don't worry, I plan to."
I was expecting something rough and unrestrained, but no, Mingi kissed me softly, lovingly, and I couldn't help but kiss him back with equal emotions. His hands went everywhere - my hair, neck, stomach - until it reached its goal down there.
Panic surged through me and I tried to struggle, but he held my legs down with his and trapped me with his chest.
"Mingi," I wailed.
"Shut up," he hissed, ignoring my pleas.
Something about the way he said it made me extremely wet. It was such a dark arousal, too. Mingi groaned loudly, his fingers felt my damp pussy, rubbing and pressing on it. I bit my lips to stop the moans that were wanting to spill out of me.
"Baby," Mingi rumbled, pulling my bottom lip out of my mouth. "Do not, and I mean, do not hold back on me, yeah? I want to hear your pretty sounds..."
It's not like he gave me a choice, I let out a breathy moan when he slipped a finger in, pushing in deeper until he was knuckles deep. I unconsciously squeezed around his finger and that made him even crazier.
"Oh sweetheart," he choked out. "You are incredibly tight, my angel."
He started stroking in and out, sliding with ease and finger fucked me faster and rougher than he did when he were at the train station.  I moaned when he curled his fingers up and started rubbing that sweet spot.
"M-Mingi," I moaned erotically. "P-Please, slow down for m-me."
He kissed my neck, his lips nipping at the soft flesh there. "How?" he groaned against my skin. "Do you not hear that?"
The loud, squelching sound from my wet pussy as he drilled his finger relentlessly in me was driving me crazy. I gasped when his pace got faster, his palms were hitting my clit aggressively and I felt my orgasm slowly approaching me.
"No," Mingi growled. I whined in protest when he pulled out. He grabbed my jaws roughly. "You won't come, not until I say so," he snarled.
He stood and quickly got rid of his pants, his hands shaking with anticipation as removed the last piece of clothing he had - his boxers.
I stopped and watched him stroking his already hard cock, and he looked directly at me, his eyes hazed with lust and madness, his strokes going slower when I swallowed. He wasn't the biggest I've been with, but he was the thickest. 
The length of it was veiny, the head of it red with the need to be inside me. I gulped when I realized that he was going to be inside me.
"Look how hard you make me, precious," his eyes were lethal and ferocious. "I'm sorry, but I can't take it anymore."
Before I could say anything, a startled cry left my lips when he mounted me, roughly pushing my thighs apart to let himself in for the invasion he was going to do.
"Mingi--oh!" I whined when he shoved his fingers back in my pussy and stroked in and out like the madman he was. I struggled repeatedly, thrashing my legs and kicking him as hard as I possibly could.
"Resistance is useless, stop it!" Mingi shouted, making me stop in my acts and stare at him dumbfounded.
He tiredly buried his head on the crook of my neck. "I will give you anything and everything you want and more," he whispered in distress and desperation. "Just please give in to me, baby, please ."
The way he was begging broke something in me. "It doesn't work like that," I sighed.
"Then don't hate me," was all he said before he pushed into me in one thrust of his hips, almost tearing me into two.
I choked out a loud moan as my nails dug into his back. "M-Mingi," I gasped in broken moans.
He stayed still inside me for what seemed like a lifetime, shushing me and whispering the gentlest of words into my ears as he gave me little kisses here and there.
I knew he was corrupting me, but the feel of him inside me sent stars in my vision. It was the corruption, the alternation, between him being rough and then into being the most affectionate man.
Mingi withdrew all of a sudden, then thrust deeply, both of us letting out pleasure filled moans that echoed all over the room.
"I'm going to have you now, okay?" he said.
Without waiting for my reply, he thrust into me hard, over and over and over again. I felt my body being filled delightfully, the sensation of Mingi's cock seemingly swallowing all the words I intended to hurl at him.
His thrusts quickened, each thrust making me cry out loud and moaning louder and louder, not caring if anybody heard me from outside.
"Oh, fuck, my love," Mingi groaned, looking me directly in the eyes as he hovered over me. "You feel so fucking good."
He leaned down to kiss me roughly. "You're all mine, okay? You're fucking mine."
It was the moment when I knew that I couldn't hold back anymore. No matter how hard I tried to deny it, maybe I was his, after all. It was fucked up, but goddamn it, I wanted him.
"I'm all yours," I cried out. "Please, please fuck me--ngh!" 
He groaned at my sudden surrender to him, reaching down with one hand to rub my clit as he fast as he was fucking into me. He locked his lips into mine in a demanding kiss.
"Your pussy feels so fucking good," his deep voice bought out a different type of pleasure in me. "Wrap your legs around me, my love."
I obeyed him without questions, moaning his name out loud when he reached even deeper than before. He buried his face in my neck as he fucked faster, harder, and deeper.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck..."
"You want me to go harder, baby?"
"Yes! "Well, you better start begging."
“Please, Mingi, please…”
His cock filled my pussy harder until I felt the tip touch the end of my walls. In a moment of complete bliss, I grabbed his face and locked eyes with him. The surprise in his eyes made him buck his hips roughly. "Is my angel a slut, after all?" he smirked.
My body shuddered against him, and I felt a pleasure that intensified with the degrading name - slut.
"I love you," he whispered abruptly. 
The sincerity in his eyes made my chest tighten and explode. "Since when?" I croaked out.
"I don't know," he smiled through the pleasure he felt. "I just do."
It was a feeling I knew all too well, as I felt the same.
A surge of bravery passed through me, maybe it was all from the payback and I want to get even. "Prove it," I smirked.
"Oh, you're going to be the death of me," he growled.
I screamed his name over and over again as he fucked his desires into me, until a strangled groan from him made his thrusts more desperate and sloppier. 
His moans were getting higher and higher in pitch until he was nothing more than a whining, moaning mess. It turned me on to the highest degree.
"Come with me, love, please," he begged. "I need it..."
It was all I needed to hear, and there was no turning back. He broke an orgasm out of me, stripping me of any plans to defy him ever again.
His groans of pleasure matched his slowing thrusts and with a final plunge forward, hot cum filled began filling me. The little kisses he planted all over my face while whispering the dirtiest things with the most affectionate tone gave me the shivers.
He laid on top of me tiredly, and I was expecting him to stay like that because we were both tired and spent, but no. "Mingi?" I asked in confusion. 
I was confused, I whined when he pulled out, going down on me to stare at my swollen pussy. It was so embarrassing, him being so close and personal down there.
"W-What are you doing?" I moaned again when I felt his fingers push back his cum back inside me.
"Can't let all of this go to waste, yes?" he smirked before diving in.
I almost had another orgasm at the sight. I felt Mingi eat me out hurriedly, holding my legs so I don't shut them close. The slurping sounds were so obscene.
Suddenly, he stopped and got back on top of me with the cockiest smirk on his face. He leaned down, forcefully opened my mouth, then opened his.
"Mmph!" I groaned lewdly, wide-eyed, but suddenly wet all over again.
I felt something wet, sticky, go in my mouth when Mingi kissed me - cum. He had just sucked his own cum from my pussy, and spit it out in my mouth.
"That's a good girl," he smirked, wiping his mouth with his hands. "Take it all in for me..."
He leans back at me again and I expectedly open my mouth for him again.  His cum dribbled slowly from his mouth to mine and we both groaned at the erotic sight. "Swallow," he said.
I savoured his taste and swallowed, just like he wanted to. He bit his lips at my lewdness. "You did not just do that," I was bewildered.
"And what if I did?" Mingi smirked.
We lay next to each other, not saying a word, and just taking in what transpired between the two of us. I lay on Mingi's chest, tracing the tattoo on his chest.
"What's it for?" I asked absentmindedly.
"That, my love, is a brand that we wear to prove our loyalty," he replied patiently, rubbing my arms up and down. "Hongjoong drew it, himself."
"Does everyone have them?"
"Yes," he hummed. "Yunho has his on his chest too, Wooyoung and San both have theirs on their thighs. Hongjoong on his right wrist, Seonghwa on the left, Jongho on his arm, Yeosang on his back."
"I see," I replied lazily, laying back on his chest and just staying there. It wasn't awkward at all, I just felt relaxed with Mingi like this.
"You didn't reply to me earlier," Mingi's deep voice accused.
"With what?" I frowned, not even bothering to open my eyes.
"I told you I love you, I meant what I said," he sighed. "It wasn't a spur of the moment thing."
"But Mingi, this is only the second time we've seen each other, how can you love me?" I whispered, my tongue burning because I knew I was bullshitting myself with that.
"Don't be a hypocrite, precious," he chuckled. I huffed and he laughed. "You forget I'm the Don, I can see right through you."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I rolled my eyes playfully, turning away from him.
He grabbed me gently and gave me a quick kiss. I blushed when he kissed my nose. "Admit it," he pressed.
"Admit what?"
"That you're slowly falling in love with me," he grinned. "Just like I am with you, my queen."
I cursed under my breath. "Why do you keep calling me that?" I frowned, trying to divert the topic.
"I'll take that as a yes," he laughed. "You mean 'my queen'? So you get used to it since I want you by my side when I rule."
"Bold of you to assume I'll agree," I murmured.
"I mean, we already fucked each other's brains out, I'm just saying--"
"Mingi!"
We laughed out loud, and we laughed even harder when all we heard from outside the door were: 
'Ha! Woo, you fucking owe me $50, I told you they'll make up!'
'Yeah, but the bet was if they make up before fucking, San!'
'I don't give a fuck. Hwa, you owe me too!'
'Me?! That was Yeosang!'
"Boss!"
I was startled when Mingi suddenly covered my whole naked body with the blanket protectively. Somebody just came through the door without knocking.
"Choi Jongho," Mingi seethed, shaking in anger. "It better be good or I swear I will shoot you on the spot."
"Ah," I heard our lovely driver fumble by the door. "Well, Hongjoong saw somebody steal the car in the garage."
Mingi sighed loudly. "Which one?"
"The white one."
"Well, did they break your legs first?"
"What?"
"I said," Mingi inhaled sharply. "Did they break your legs first?"
I stroked Mingi's thighs to calm him down. Though it turned me on to see him mad - sue me, he was hot - I liked Jongho and I don't want to see him dead yet.
"No," Jongho replied.
"So go and fucking chase it down, then!" Mingi howled. "Did you really have to go to me for that? Get the hell out of my room, out!"
"Hey, this is my house!" I heard Yunho shout from a distance.
"That I gave you!" Mingi screamed back.
I couldn't stop the laughter that erupted from my throat. I suppose it wouldn't be too bad trying to get along with everyone and see where this journey takes us. When Jongho shut the door, I peeked out from the blanket to find Mingi already staring at me.
"So," Mingi cleared his throat. "What now?"
I attempted to stifle a grin, but I failed. "Luckily for you, I like having power as well."
"Good," he beamed. I was in awe, where was the rugged and brusque man I met on the train station?
He bought out documents from the bedside table and began writing on it. "I just have to write your name in the official document so the enemy does not touch you," he explained when he saw me look at him curiously.
"They're eventually going to find out about you," he continued. "You have an English name, love?"
"Why?" I asked.
"For overseas," he shrugged. "Our operations extend out there, believe it or not."
I looked at him apprehensively. When Mingi saw me hesitate, he spoke up. "We'll take it one step at a time, okay?" he tenderly said. "I know this is a lot of change, but I promise you, nobody will hurt you. Hurting you will equate to hurting me as well. Any family I should know of?"
My heart swelled incredibly so. I was scared, terrified even, but I had a good feeling about him and everything that will come next.
"No," I smiled sadly. "I'm an orphan. And it's Rinoa."
He stopped in his tracks and looked up to meet my eyes. "You're very strong," he said with a small smile. "You have me and the boys now, no more worrying alone, okay? Put down your college information too, I'll pay for it from now on."
My eyes widened. "You don't have to," I whispered. "I've been managing on my own for years now."
"I know, love, but part of being mine is letting me take care of you. Let me take this burden off of your shoulders, okay?"
I wanted to tear up. I was confused, but felt very happy. "I hope you don't let me down," I whispered. " Or I'm going to beat you up," I grinned afterwards.
Mingi grinned back, kissing my hands tenderly. "I promise I'll give you everything and make you happy, and I'm sorry for all the stuff I put you through."
"No more lies?" I pointed out.
Mingi shook his head. "No more lies."
"So what's your English name too?"
Mingi chuckled. "I won't lie," he smirked. "But I never said I won't ask for some sort of payment."
I rolled my eyes and kissed him on the cheeks. His eyes widened in response. "That was fast," he laughed. "Look at you already wanting to know things about myself."
"Glad to know you're still the cocky man I met," I laughed. "Would've been weird if you just suddenly changed."
I looked at him expectantly with a cheeky smile. He laughed out loud before responding. "It's Stellan.”
"It suits you," I commented. 
We stared at each other, just taking in the other person. Little by little, we'll get to each other, and it starts right here, and right now. "Come here," he began
He lifted me up to put me on his lap so I could straddle him and pulled me towards him until our lips danced in a game of truce.
I fell into his rhythm naturally as his arms wrapped around me and held me lovingly. I had found my lover with Mingi, and I had fallen in love with him.
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l0vergirlsw0rld · 8 months ago
Text
ravish part 3
hitchhiker!readerxperv!loganhowlett
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a/n: this is the final part of the ravish series! hope you guys enjoyed it <3 T
wc: 6k
NSFW
18+ MDNI | age gap,oral sex, p in v intercourse, and sexual themes
summary: Y/N goes to Logan's cabin in Canada while she waits for him to return from Mexico. during her stay, she finds some personal mementos that give her a deeper understanding of who he really is.
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"...I ain't gonna tell you again, kid, it's too dangerous." He grunted, smoothing down his beard with a hand in frustration. The roughness in his voice matched the irritation in his eyes.
You stood in front of the doorway, blocking him. 
"Why are you going if you're so concerned about safety? What if something happens to you?" you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. 
You weren’t just challenging him; you were demanding an explanation, the truth, something he couldn’t dodge with huffs and empty commands.
At the crack of dawn, you had ambushed Logan, catching him off guard before he could slip away into the shadows. 
The plan was simple.
Today, you weren’t separating paths; You had decided, and you weren’t about to let him just walk out without a fight.
But Logan, true to his protective nature, instantly shot down your idea, brushing it off. And now the two of you were standing there, bickering by the front door, each trying to make the other see their perspective.
"Because I can take it. You? Not so much. Now move, I gotta be somewhere." His voice was low and raspy, carrying a weight that was hard to argue with.
 He took a heavy step forward making the boards creak underneath him. He meant business, and you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to play games.
But you weren’t about to back down. 
"Then when am I going to see you again? If I can't go with you, how do I get in touch with you? You don't have a cell phone. Is there an address I can write to you?" The words tumbled out before you could stop them.
You reached out, gently touching his chest, feeling the heavy beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to stop him in his tracks.
He exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound almost a sigh of resignation. For a moment, the harsh lines of his face softened, and he looked at you with hurt as if he heard you for the first time this morning. 
You both shared a look of longing before you cut the silence.
"I'm not being this adamant because I want to meet up again to fuck... I told you I liked you, Logan. If you leave for Mexico and we never see each other again, we won't get to explore this. I know you like me too." You slid your hand up to rest where his neck and shoulder meet. 
"You're right sweetheart, I do....a lot... It's just, I don't know when I'll be back," he said, his voice low and careful as if trying to choose the right words. "This type of thing... it can take a while." He looked down at you through his dark lashes.
He was leaving, without you.
The pressure in your chest subsided, and from the hand he placed on your waist you knew he was also upset.
 "Do you want to see me again?" You mumbled softly.
"Of course I do." His hands came up on your shoulders, his touch warm and reassuring. Logan pulled you in and pressed a long kiss on the top of your head. The warmth of his lips calmed every nerve in your body. 
He pulled away, steady, as always, but there was something in his eyes that told you this was just as hard for him as it was for you.
 "But I'm sorry, you can't come. I'd never forgive myself if something would happen to you." 
"Then I'll wait for you," you said, your voice calmer.
 "...Just give me a place to meet you. I don't care how long it'll take...I'll get by... I always do." You looked into his eyes, searching for some sign that he believed you, that he understood just how serious you were.
"You'll wait f'me?" His voice was softer now, almost uncertain as if he couldn't quite believe what you were saying. The gears in Logan turned as he thought of something.
"Yes, anywhere, I'll wait," you answered without hesitation.
He paused, considering your words, then nodded slowly.
"How about Canada?" 
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Two weeks of walking, drives, train rides and taxis. That's what it took you to get to Logan's place in Deer Lake, Alberta.
 The journey up north was a first for you, an adventure into a new landscape that felt almost picturesque.
The countryside was a living canvas; Gorgeous snow-tipped mountains towered In the distance, tucked behind miles and miles of lush trees and massive lakes that shimmered reflections of a deep sapphire blue.
Logan's home—a cabin—was located deep within an untamed forest. The remoteness of the location was astonishing, so far away from any civilization, you wondered how he survived the winters alone; the taxi driver had only been able to take you so far before the road disappeared into the wild grass, leaving nothing but a rough trail that was impassable for a vehicle. 
From there, it was up to you to make the final trek on foot.
As you walked, the gravel crunched beneath you, the sound was oddly comforting in the quiet of the forest. The air was crisp and clean, breathing had suddenly become easier in the forest. The scent of pine and cedar filled your nostrils, clearing your sinuses from any blockage they might've had.
Approaching the cabin, you noticed scattered logs and woodworking tools lying around the property. You pieced together that Logan had built this place with his own bare hands. The mess in the yard was evidence of the hard work that had gone into building this place. Each log and nail was a hommage to his skill and stubbornness. 
Of course, Logan built his own house, you mumbled. 
Your mouth fell open in awe as you took in the sight of the cabin. It was more than just a structure—it was the product of Logan's blood, sweat, and tears.
 There was something deeply personal about it, something that made you feel honoured to be allowed into this part of his life. This wasn’t just a cabin, it was his getaway from all the bad things in his life.
The cabin, his home, was a mirror image of him—rugged, enduring, and built to withstand the harshest elements.
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Stepping onto the front porch, your hand grazed over the smooth wooden railings of the stairs. His craftsmanship was impeccable, each detail was carefully considered, and each board was perfectly placed. Logan had picked the perfect area to carve out for himself in this remote corner of the world.
You inserted the key he had given you before he left into the doorknob and twisted. After hearing the faint clicking noise, you pushed it open to reveal the inside. 
His home was open-concept, the entrance positioned right between the kitchen and the living room. To your left, a maroon leather loveseat sat next to a matching recliner, both perfectly aligned to face a stone-built fireplace that reached up to the ceiling. 
The walls were decorated with Indigenous paintings, each one a cultural tapestry of the land. The artwork depicted vibrant scenes of nature and various animal spirits.
To your right was a modest kitchenette, equipped with all the essentials for a life lived simply but comfortably. The centrepiece was the sturdy table and chair set that appeared to be handmade, most likely by Logan himself. 
As you ventured deeper into the space, you spun slowly in a circle, trying to take it all in, it was gorgeous. You could feel him within these walls.
 The air carried a faint, lingering scent of his cigars, a comforting reminder of him. You wondered how long it had been since he was last here, sitting by the fire, drink in hand, perhaps lost in thought. 
You entered his bedroom with a gentle push of the door, revealing a space that mirrored the simple functionality of the rest of the cabin. Like the other rooms, it was decked out with only the essentials for comfort. A large bed, a handmade dresser that stood against the wall, its wood polished smooth from years of use. There was a spacious closet, probably filled with his few belongings, and a small nightstand with a simple lamp casting a soft, warm glow.
On the nightstand, you noticed an ashtray filled with grey dust.
I wonder how many lonely nights he spent in here, you thought.
Exhausted from the long journey, you decided to call it a night. You plopped down onto Logan’s bed, the mattress was firm but welcoming and pulled the blankets around you. 
The scent of the cabin wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. As your head sank into the pillow, you found yourself drifting off almost immediately, surrounded by the quiet peace of Logan’s space.
Miss you, You mumbled before closing your eyes for the night.
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Two weeks since your arrival:
Days at the cabin seemed to blend together, slipping by with an ease that was both comfortable and foreign.
 You’d been on the road for most of your short life, always on the go, always searching for the next big thing.
 But here, in this secluded corner of the world, you found yourself settling into a routine—something you hadn’t realized you craved. The mundane act of daily chores became almost therapeutic.
You had begun exploring around the cabin, finding hidden trails that led you all over the place.  One path led you to a nearby town, a small, quaint place where life moved at a slower pace. The townspeople were friendly, their lives seemingly untouched by the chaos of the world.
 You frequented the local general store for groceries, picking up a few items and some clothes to better suit this colder climate. The change in scenery was drastic for you, but you found yourself adapting, maybe even enjoying the peace that came with it.
As the days passed, the cabin began to feel like your own. The once unfamiliar space became a place of comfort, each creak of the floorboards and crackle of the fire made you unwind. 
You decided to take on some of the household chores—tasks that probably didn’t come naturally to Logan.
 Spring cleaning became your mission, tackling the tedious details he might overlook. You wiped down the insides of kitchen drawers, scrubbed the fridge, and tossed out any expired food. It felt good to take care of these small things, you were kind of being a little housewife, preparing the home for Logan's arrival.
One afternoon, while organizing the kitchen, your fingers brushed against something tucked away in the back of a drawer. 
You decided to pull it out and realized it was an old map, the paper worn and creased from what seemed years of use. 
As you unfolded it, you noticed several locations marked in red ink. The meaning of these places was a mystery, and despite studying the map for a long while, you couldn’t decipher their significance. 
Japan, Madripoor, Northern Canada, Mexico,
Puzzled, you left the map on the table. The idea was that maybe if you came back to it later, you'd see something you hadn't noticed in the first place. 
The thought occurred to you to ask Logan about it when he returned. Would he have a simple explanation or go back to shooting it down?
Over the following days, you found yourself returning to it, your fingers tracing the lines and paths, your mind wandering to what expeditions or memories these marks represented.
In these moments, you couldn't help but think, 
He’s no handyman, that’s for sure.
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Three Weeks since your arrival: 
As you prepared for bed one night, the soft glow of the lamp illuminated the room in a gentle, amber light. During your bedtime routine, something caught your eye—a glint of metal in the corner of the room, just beside the dresser on the floor.
 Curious, you approached and discovered a set of dog tags lying on the floor, half-hidden beneath a loose floorboard.
The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning. 
Logan had been in the military. 
It was a part of his past you had no clue about, a fragment of his story that added depth to the riddle that was him. You had sensed that one night there was a darkness within him, but now, seeing these tags, you began to understand the source of that shadow—his time as a soldier, the battles fought, and the scars born. 
Tears welled up in your eyes as you gently traced your thumb over the engravings on the tags. Each mark and number seemed to hold trauma, something that represented his time, far away from the peace of the cabin. You tried to imagine the weight of these tags around his neck during those times of darkness, and it filled you with sadness.
With a shaky breath, you wiped the tears from your cheeks. In this moment you were feeling an inexplicable connection to him through this small, metallic relic. A part of you wanted to honour his remarkable selflessness. You slipped the chain over your head and let the tags rest against your chest, giving them a gentle squeeze, a small gesture of comfort as you tried to steady the storm of emotions inside you.
The thought of Logan facing any dangers far away in Mexico seemed almost unbearable. The weight of the dog tags felt like a physical reminder of the challenges he faced, the unknown threats he confronted, and the loneliness that came with his life of constant danger. 
He survived in the past, he'll survive again. You told yourself.
You longed to have him next to you in bed, to offer him a comforting hug, but the miles that separated you felt like an eternity away.
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Four Weeks since your arrival: 
After a successful day of fishing at the lake, you returned home, enthusiastic and sopping wet from an unexpected stumble into the water. Your clothing clung to you and the chilly evening air covered your body in goosebumps. You hurried inside, eager to change into some dry clothes.
Logan’s wardrobe provided a relief. You rummaged through his drawers, searching for something comfortable to wear—a t-shirt, a pair of pyjama pants, and socks. The familiar feel of his clothes was oddly comforting, a small link to him while he was so far away. After all he did only own multiples of the same clothing articles. 
As you dug deeper into the drawer, your fingers brushed against something unexpected. You pulled out a Polaroid photo, slightly crumpled and tucked away behind other items. Intrigued, you examined it more closely.
The image was of a dark-haired woman with hazel eyes, seductively bound with ropes, completely nude and captured in a moment of intimacy. The rawness and vulnerability of the photo struck a jealous chord, and for a moment, you were taken aback. The woman’s identity didn't make sense to you at all, you knew Logan was single, and there was nothing left of a female in the cabin. Even though it might've been an old girlfriend, the discovery stirred a mix of emotions—curiosity, surprise, and discomfort. 
You couldn’t help but wonder about the context of the photo. 
Was this someone important to him? 
Did he hold onto the photo for special meaning or as a memory for him?
 Your mind raced with questions, each one feeling deeper and more personal. The photograph was intimate and private. It felt like a glimpse into a side of Logan you hadn’t seen before—one that was carefree, open and playful. 
Feeling a surge of conflicting emotions, you gently set the photo back to where it belonged, buried under piles of socks. The photo had given you a lot to think about, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was just one more piece of Logan’s past that you were uncovering from spending time in his home.
As you slipped into the dry clothes, the warmth of the t-shirt and pyjama pants was comforting, but the image lingered in your thoughts, leaving you with more questions than answers about the man whose home you now shared.
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Six Weeks since your arrival:
You were determined to light a fire inside the cabin tonight. But first thing first, you now needed to chop firewood since you had used up all of Logan's. You enjoyed the luxury of a nice warm fireplace every night and that wasn't going to end anytime soon. 
 The task was tougher than you anticipated. You huffed as you dragged some of the smaller logs onto the chopping block. You hoisted it up on it with all your might, wincing as you felt the rough bark scrape against your palms. The pain was sharp but didn't last long as you wiped the blood on your clothes, focusing on the task at hand. You had become a woman of the forest.
You picked up the axe, its weight heavy in your hands. Hoisting it above your head, you struggled to keep it steady. With a deep breath, you brought it down with all your might. The axe’s iron head split through the wood with a satisfying thunk, sending the splintered halves flying, making a metallic clang echo beneath one of the pieces as it hit the ground.
 Curious, you crouched down and peered underneath. To your astonishment, you discovered a hidden hatch covered by dirt and twigs. Your heart raced with excitement and curiosity. Dust clouded the air as you tugged the hatch open, revealing a narrow space underground.
You dropped to all fours and stuck your head down into the hatch, your breath mingling with the musty scent of hidden secrets. The space below was dimly lit by daylight filtering through the hatch, but even in the low light, you could make out the outline of a well-organized stash.
Inside, you found a collection of weapons—various blades and firearms neatly arranged and meticulously maintained. There were combat knives with polished handles, tactical pistols, and rifles of different calibres. Given Logan’s past military service, it made sense that he would keep a well-stocked arsenal on his property, even if it was hidden away for safety. Though it didn't seem completely out of the realm of expectations, the amount of weapons did make you question why he felt he needed that many. 
Had he needed to use them recently? 
Was he supplying a team or working alone? 
Even though you knew Logan was involved in violent organizations now, you still could not bring yourself to fear him. Your gut just kept on assuring you that he was a good guy and meant no harm to you. You also trusted his judgement, he had a kind heart and you were positive that if he were to hurt someone it would be for their good. 
With a final look at the hidden stash, you turned back to your woodpile, the task at hand feeling somehow more significant now. As you continued to chop the wood, your mind replayed the countless questions you now had for Logan upon his arrival. 
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Eight Weeks since your arrival:
You were rummaging through the cabin, searching for batteries for Logan's radio. The radio had become a comforting presence during your stay, its music, a soothing aid against the isolation and the creeping paranoia that sometimes cropped on you. The constant thought of being alone in the vast wilderness, with the constant worry of a wild animal breaking through the door, made the staticky tunes a necessity for your sanity.
After scouring every possible location, you were down to your last hope—the top shelf of Logan’s closet. Balancing on your tiptoes, you stretched your arm up, hoping to feel the familiar shape of a battery package. Instead, your hand brushed against something sharp. You pulled your hand back quickly, wincing as you noticed a shard of glass embedded in your fingertip.
Curiosity got the better of you. 
Determined, you grabbed a kitchen chair and carefully positioned it beneath the closet shelf. You climbed onto the chair and reached up again, this time with more caution, and found the source of the sharp sensation—a broken picture frame.
Carefully, you lifted the frame and inspected it, noticing the fragments of glass that had scattered around. You set the frame gently on the floor, making sure not to cut yourself further, and turned it over to reveal the photograph behind the glass.
The picture was old and slightly faded, but it was clear enough to see the faces of those it depicted. Logan was in the center, surrounded by  X-Men members you recognized: Jean Grey, with her vibrant red hair; Cyclops, his visor unmistakable even in this casual setting; and Storm, her white hair flowing with almost ethereal grace. They were all posed together, their faces lit with genuine smiles and laughter, capturing a good, warm moment.
As you examined the photo, a wave of realization washed over you. You had heard of the X-Men in stories and legends, but you had never imagined Logan was connected to them, let alone be one of them. The presence of these iconic figures, the heroes you had only known through tales and news reports, was a clear indication that Logan was once part of something extraordinary.
This photograph was more than just a snapshot; it was a revelation of his identity. Logan was not just a lonely man with a mysterious past—he was a mutant, a member of the X-Men, a hero with a legacy that spanned beyond what you had ever understood. The contrast between the vibrant camaraderie of the photo and the isolated, battle-worn figure you knew was striking.
What in the world had led him to such loneliness and solitude? 
Why was the picture broken, had he done that to it? 
As you held the frame, you felt sympathy and awe. This discovery added a new layer of complexity to your understanding of him. These were the people who had shaped him, and it deepened your appreciation for them.
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You were fast asleep until the bedroom door creaked open, and your eyelids flew open in response.
Logan.
You turned over to turn on the lamp.
His complexion had deepened from the sun in Mexico, and his hair had grown out a bit, curling slightly at the nape of his neck. He looked down at you with tired eyes and a soft, relieved smile. You had fulfilled your promise and waited for him. 
"Logan," you rasped, your voice thick with sleep. You had been waiting for this moment for weeks.
"Hi, baby. Sorry I woke you," he whispered, approaching you and kneeling beside the bed. His hand reached out to brush some stray hairs away from your face, a tender gesture that made your heart swell.
You didn’t care about being woken up. Without hesitation, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He returned it with equal strength, his strong arms wrapping around you, holding you as if he might never let go. 
You inhaled deeply, taking in his scent—different, altered by time and distance, yet still undeniably him. His hand slid behind your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he cradled you against him.
"I missed you so much," you mumbled into his shirt, your voice muffled by the fabric but laced with raw emotion. You couldn’t bring yourself to loosen your grip on him.
"So did I, princess," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He gently nudged you back, signalling for you to look at him.
You met his hazel eyes with your own, now glistening with tears. He used his thumb to gently wipe away a tear that had escaped down your cheek before pulling you into a passionate kiss, one filled with longing and love. 
His lips claimed yours hungrily, his hands cupping your face, holding you in place as if to make up for all the lost time. You melted into him, surrendering to the moment, to the feel of his lips on yours, the taste of him, the warmth of his touch.
For the past two months, he had thought of you every single day, the memory of you his constant companion amid chaos. There were moments when he had considered abandoning everything just to return to you, but he knew the importance of his mission. He had told himself that if he could endure the pain, and the heartache of being away, he would be rewarded with the sweetest reunion.
His lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw, planting soft kisses along the way. He found the sensitive spot on your neck, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped your lips. Your fingers instinctively gripped the back of his neck, holding him closer, wanting more. The sensation of his touch after so long sent chills down your spine, a reminder of the connection you shared. You tilted your head back, giving him full access, and his mouth left warm, wet trails on your skin as he explored further.
But then, without warning, he suddenly pulled away. You let out a small whine at the loss of his warmth, your eyes searching for his.
His gaze had dropped to your chest, his brows furrowed in concentration.
"Lo?" you asked softly, following his gaze. Then you saw it—the dog tags.
His fingers traced the ball chain with a calloused touch, the metal cool against your skin as he followed its curve. You felt a shiver run through you, not just from the contact but from the significance of the moment.
"I found them," you said quietly, placing your hand over his, pressing it to your chest, where your heartbeat had begun to race. "I had no clue that you had served... You know, I learned a lot about you while you were gone."
He didn’t respond immediately, just kept his eyes down, focused on your hands entwined over the dog tags.
"What did you learn?" he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I know who you are, Logan... I know what you are, and I'm not scared," you said, your voice trembling with sincerity.
 "I have an idea of what you were doing down in Mexico, and I know you have the best intentions at heart. I trust you and your judgment. So, if you had to... hurt people... there, I know it’s because they deserved it. I'm not going anywhere, Logan. I'm just happy you're back and safe."
He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. "You sure?" he asked, his voice filled with a vulnerability that took you by surprise.
You nodded, your eyes locking onto his with unwavering determination.
 "I'm sure. You're home now, and that's all that matters to me. I'm all yours," You pulled him in for another kiss. 
Logan's fire lit within him: you were all his. 
He matched your energy once more, feeding the primal hunger that had been eating at him all this time.  Your lips locked and tongues trailed on top of each other in ecstasy. You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth before biting down on it gently as he had taught you. He groaned in your mouth, gripping your hips tightly, his nails dug into your sides. 
"Lay down baby," He mumbled against your lips. You obliged, letting your back fall on the mattress, Logan hovered over you, taking in the sight of your body. His eyes trailed up and down, savouring every inch of your body for his memory. 
"You're so fucking pretty," He cooed resuming his place on your neck. You flinched from the sudden stimulation, a surprised moan escaping your lips. 
He licked his way down to the neckline of your shirt, you gripped the sheets behind you as the excitement built in your lower abdomen. 
With a swift, almost imperceptible movement, Logan extended his arm, and you heard a metallic *snikt* as his claws slid out from between his knuckles. The room, which had been filled with the warmth of your reunion, now hummed with a different kind of energy—something raw and vulnerable.
You stared, wide-eyed, as the three gleaming metal blades emerged from his hand, each one impossibly sharp and perfectly aligned. They reflected the dim light in the room, casting slender, shimmering lines across the walls.
For a moment, you could do nothing but observe them in stunned amazement. This was the ability, the weapon that had been a part of him for so long, and he was sharing it with you; how special.
You reached out, almost instinctively, your fingers trembling as they hovered near the metal. Logan's eyes met yours, searching for any sign of fear or hesitation. But you felt none. Instead, there was a deep curiosity, a need to understand this part of him.
Gently, you let your fingers brush against the surface of one of the blades. The metal was cold and smooth, the edges impossibly sharp. You marvelled at how something so deadly could be a part of the man you loved. It was hard to wrap your mind around it—how could flesh and bone give rise to something so unnatural, so extraordinary?
"They're beautiful," You hummed in delight, looking up at him with the warmest smile. 
"You're something else, aren't you?" He sighed relieved.
With a swift movement, he cut your shirt down the middle, your breasts falling out. 
"Logan-" You gasped in surprise, his smile turned dark as he retracted the claws back inside. 
"Was in my way," He smirked, dropping his face to your chest and sucking one of your nipples in his mouth. His free hand immediately finds your other one, palming your flesh, toying with your sensitive nipples with his fingers. You moan loudly, arching your back into his skilled maneuvers. It felt amazing but you needed more. More touch. More friction. More Logan. 
With a distinctive pop, he releases your nipple from his grasp.
"Please," You breathed needily. You were feeling yourself getting wetter by the moment.
He admired you from below; how your hand was gripped in the sheets over your head, how your eyelids were just barely open with lust. He kissed his way down from your breasts to your stomach, leaving a few of his marks on your body. Gentle ones of course. 
“I'm going to make you feel good, okay sweetheart?” Logan soothes, pulling down the pyjama pants down your legs with ease. You helped him remove them frantically, knowing what was about to happen next.
 “Okay, Lo-” He tosses the bottoms to the other side of the room and spreads your legs wide open for him.
“Fuck baby," He groaned as he admired your perfectly shaped core, already dripping and aching for him. 
He brought his hands to your folds, spreading them open with his thumbs. You twitched underneath his touch eager to feel some release. 
"Been thinking about doing this for a long time," He mumbled before diving face-first into you. His tongue made contact with your sensitive bud sending your back into an aggressive arch. He started slowly, licking long fat lines. You twitched at every flick of his tongue on your clit. 
He slid both of his hands to grip your thighs roughly, pushing them further open for him. He picks up his pace, moving his jaw faster against you. Your wetness drenched his face, dripping from his chin as he lapped rhythmically with his skilled tongue, applying just the right amount of pressure to inch you closer to your breaking point. 
"You taste just as good as the first time," He praised between breaths before sucking your clit into his mouth. His warm soft lips wrapped around it tightly as he pushed against it causing the most delicious friction. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the sensation. 
You were already close, you hadn't touched yourself during his absence and even the slightest touch was sending you near the edge. 
Logan was growing painfully hard against his jeans, every whimper and moan that escaped your lips made the pressure increase. How he adored having you in his mouth, seeing you up close like this, tasting your sweet honey on his tongue while your intoxicating smell filled his senses. 
He gave a slite bite on your clit as he recalled you enjoyed that last time. With a fuck, your hands snapped to his hair, grabbing fistfuls. He grinned against you doing it again, as he pressed a finger against your entrance, slowly pushing his fingers inside. You gasped as he stretched you out. While keeping up his momentum with his tongue he began to pump his fingers with it. Both points of friction accelerated your rise to your orgasm.
You’re a whimpering mess underneath him, you try to mask the noise by biting down on the pillow.
 “Don't hold back, I want to hear those pretty noises you're making darlin', ” Logan praises, thrusting deeper inside, all the way to his knuckles. You release the material from your teeth, letting out a 'gonna cum logan,'
"Cum for me princess," He moans, high off of the pleasure of eating you out. He’s devouring you, his face buried between your thighs, his tongue circling your clit. He bites down again, pulling back his fingers outside of you, you moan at the sensation. He pulls his face away from your swollen clit and slaps his hand down on your core. 
Your hips buck in surprise and the slight sharpness of the pain tips you over the edge, before you know it you're rolling your eyes in the back of your head. Logan rubs his rough palm on your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm, he pulls you closer by your neck and kisses you aggressively. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling his body down so that his chest is flush with yours. “Need you inside,” you beg, lips against his. “Need you inside.”
Logan gets up and pulls his shirt over his shoulders, discarding it in some corner of the room. He drinks in the sight of your post-orgasm frame, trying to catch your breath as he fiddles with his belt. With a few clinking noises and a zip, he pushed his jeans down, his cock springing out aggressively. 
He returns to his position on the bed, between your legs. His lips come crashing down on yours as he strokes it a few times to ease the tension. "Are you sure, baby? It might be a little much for you, I'm more than happy with just eating you out." He locks eyes with you, looking for your approval.
You grin. "I'm yours, Logan, I'm sure." You pull him in for another kiss as he pushes the tip of his cock past your entrance. Your body jolts in surprise by the sheer size of it, but with every inch he goes deeper, the more you get used to him. You moan into his mouth as he works his way into you.
His lips are on yours, he’s plunging into you slowly, down to the hilt. “Fuck,” he groans, his cock throbbing inside you. “You're so fucking tight,” he murmurs, buried deep inside of you. “I might not last long,” He lets out a dry laugh before thrusting in and out.
Your hands find themselves gripping Logan's back muscles, grazing your nails across his skin. He groaned as the stinging sensation began to tingle. 
“Taking me so well,” Logan praises, ducking into your neck and sucking on it. He pumps along your walls, his hips snapping against yours. His pace picks up, thrusts becoming faster. Your entrance squeezed around his girth as he pounded deep inside you. 
"Fuck," He grunts between breaths.
He rams into you. Over and over, his sensitive tip enveloped you, warm and wet.
 “I'm so happy I'm yours,” you moan. " Always gonna be yours.” His cock twitches at your words. You watch as his abs flex, his muscles tightening and releasing with every thrust.
 The kisses on your neck became sloppy, and his thrusts were irregular. 
His cock twitches inside you again, throbbing against your walls. You know he's close because he's moaning and pulls away from your neck looking for your eyes. 
His muscles flex as he finds your face, and he throws his head back mindlessly pumping his warm hot seed inside of you. His hands softly stroking your thigh as he comes back to his senses.
With a few other pumps, he pulls out dropping next to you in the bed. He pulls you close keeping your head on his chest. You hear his heart hammering against his ribcage. 
"That was so-"
"Needed." He finished
"Yes, needed." You agreed, tracing circles against his chest as he caught his breath.
A moment of silence passed, and you both comfortably enjoyed each other's company.
As the quiet stretched between you, the soft hum of the night outside filtered into the room, making the moment feel even more serene. Logan’s heartbeat began to slow, and the steady rhythm beneath your fingertips was soothing. You felt completely at peace in his arms, as if the chaotic world beyond the four walls of the bedroom didn’t exist.
He shifted slightly, adjusting to pull you even closer, his chin resting on the top of your head. His hand drifted to your back, tracing lazy lines along your spine, the touch intimate and grounding. It was moments like this where words weren’t necessary. The connection between you spoke louder than anything you could say.
"You okay?" Logan murmured, breaking the silence in a voice so low it was barely above a whisper. His tone was soft, tender, almost as if he feared disturbing the quiet that had settled between you.
You nodded against his chest. "More than okay," you whispered back, your fingers continuing their idle patterns against his skin. "I’m happy you’re here. Really here."
His arms tightened around you in response. "I’m not going anywhere," he said, his voice carrying the weight of a promise, the kind he rarely made.
A content sigh escaped your lips as you nuzzled deeper into his embrace, the scent of him—familiar and grounding—filling your senses. His warmth enveloped you, lulling you into a state of complete relaxation. The world outside felt distant and irrelevant, and all that mattered was this moment, with him by your side.
As the minutes passed, you both drifted into a comfortable stillness, your breaths synchronizing, the only sound being the soft rustle of the sheets and the steady beat of Logan’s heart beneath your ear. This was all you needed—him, right here, with you.
As you closed your eyes, drifting on the edge of sleep, Logan’s hand gently tightened on your hip, and in a low, teasing murmur, he whispered, "Next time, I’m going to ravish you all over again."
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sorry it took so long, I started uni <3 love you guys and thank you for enjoying the Ravish series. hope yall request or stick around for more.
🏷️:@babucakes@landlockedmermaid77@theoraekenslover@loreniscrying@bpmiranda @rogueinmymind @lose1tall @2fatblunt @ltristessedureratoujours @th3mrskory @angelofthorr @strawberrylore
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fandomsbrat · 1 year ago
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THIN ICE ✦ part 1 ✦
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Matt rempe x reader, Jack hughes x reader
"𝙊𝙝, 𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 '𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 "࣪ ⋆。་ ♡
Summary : you fall for the new boy Matt rempe and your ex has a problem with it
It’s like 20% plot and 80% smut lol
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You step onto the campus of your university, the autumn air crisp. It's been months since you ended things with Jack Hughes, yet he's been trying to get back together more recently but you're determined to move on, to carve out a new path for yourself, but fate has other plans. As you make your way to your first class, you catch sight of him. Jack, with his team mates, his dark hair and his blue eyes. Your heart skips a beat, memories flooding back. You two were together for 3 years. He was your first everything. So when found out he was messing around with other girls while you were away over the summer it kinda broke you.
As you brace yourself and continue walking, ignoring the tug of pain. He’s laughing it up with his friends while you’re walking by up the stairs to your class. You two broke up and now you have to see him at school for one more year as a senior. This year was definitely going to be rough.
But just as you think you've escaped the past, you collide with someone, sending your books scattering across the ground. You look up to see a very tall boy with warm brown eyes and a crooked smile extending a hand to help you up. "Sorry about that," he says, his voice soft yet confident. "I'm Matt Rempe."
You brush yourself off and accept his hand, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. "No worries," you reply, offering a shy smile. "I'm y/a Nice to meet you, Matt." Matt's grin widens, and he reaches out to brush a stray strand of hair "Listen, I know this might be a bit forward, but would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime? You know as sorry for knocking you over."
You hesitate for a moment, torn but in the end, the pull of something new and exciting wins out.
"I'd like that," you say, smiling up at him.
Little did you know jack saw you two from a distance and planned on letting Matt know exactly who you belonged to. Jack knows what he did was wrong but he’s one of the best players on the team of course he gets other girls trying to get into his pants. He was just too selfish to think about you and your feelings. He knew Matt rempe would be joining the team but he didn’t expect was for you to fall for another guy so quickly after the break up. He could tell you liked him by the way you blushed when he helped you up off the ground.
The atmosphere on the ice during practice had shifted since jack saw you and Matt together. Jack's frustration and anger seemed to seep into every aspect of the game, his hits becoming harder and his checks more aggressive. It was as if he was taking out his emotions on the ice, channeling his anger into every move. Matt couldn't ignore the change in Jack's behavior, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it was directed at him. He felt the weight of Jack's hostility bearing down on him during drills, the intensity of his hits leaving bruises that lingered long after practice had ended.
Matt refused to back down. He knew that Jack's anger wasn't really about him; it was about something deeper, something that had nothing to do with hockey.
Jack stormed into the locker room, his jaw clenched and his fists balled at his sides. Without hesitation, he made his way over to where Matt stood, his expression dark and dangerous. The other players in the locker room instinctively backed away, sensing the tension in the air.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jack spat, his voice low and dangerous.
Matt turned to face him, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Nothing," he replied, his tone calm but with an underlying edge. Jack took a step closer, his fists clenching tighter. "Stay away from her," he growled, his voice laced with a warning.
Matt stood his ground, refusing to back down. "She's not yours to control," he said firmly. "If she wants to talk to me, that's her choice." Jack felt a surge of anger boiling inside him, his temper threatening to explode. "You don't know anything about her," he snapped, his voice rising. "You have no idea what she's been through."
Matt narrowed his eyes, his own frustration evident.
"And you do?" he retorted. "You think you have some kind of claim over her just because you used to date?"
Jack's hands curled into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. "I know her better than anyone," he insisted, his voice tinged with desperation. "And I know she deserves better than you." Matt's smirk was a challenge, his cocky demeanor a mask for his own insecurities. "Maybe if you had treated her right, she wouldn't be coming to me."
The tension in the room, jack standing up to Matt sizing him up when he pushed him then all hell broke loose. Body’s grabbing both boys separating them before things could get out of hand. And with that, he turned and stormed out of the locker room, leaving Matt pissed off that he would act like a asshole right before the game tonight. The other players exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to make of the confrontation they had just witnessed.
Later that night you and your friends make it to the arena. Your eyes scan the players on the ice, searching for familiar faces among the sea of helmets and jerseys.
Jack gliding across the ice. He's a star player on the hockey team, and it's easy to see why. But then your gaze drifts to the other end of the rink, where a new player catches your eye. Matt, the latest addition to the team, moves with a raw aura that sets him apart from the others. He's tall and lean, with a determined look in his eyes as he battles for control of the puck.
You can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest as you watch Matt play. There's something about him, something that draws you in despite your best efforts to resist. You know it's dangerous to get involved with another hockey player, especially after everything that happened with Jack, but there's a pull between you and Matt that you can't ignore.
As the game comes to an end, you make your way down to the locker rooms to congratulate the team.
You linger in the hallway, waiting for Jack to emerge, unsure of what to say to him after all this time. But before you can gather your thoughts, Matt appears beside you, a crooked grin on his face.
After the game, Matt took your hand and led you off the ice, away from the buzzing crowd and into the quiet solitude of the locker room. The air was heavy with the lingering scent of sweat and adrenaline, the sounds of the game still echoing in the empty space.
As you followed Matt into the locker room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building in the pit of your stomach. You had spent countless hours in this room, cheering on Jack and the rest of the team, but being here with Matt felt different somehow. There was a charged energy in the air, a tension that seemed to crackle between you, drawing you closer with each step.
Once inside, Matt turned to face you, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "I wanted to talk to you," he said softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability.
You nodded, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest. "About what?" you asked, unable to tear your gaze away from him.
Matt's lips curved into a small, tender smile. "You," he said simply. "You are so beautiful"
Your heart swelled with emotion at his words, the truth of them resonating deep within you. "Thank you," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
Without another word, Matt closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender, passionate kiss. In that moment, surrounded by the empty silence of the locker room, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, as if everything in the world had finally fallen into place.
As you wrapped your arms around Matt, pulling him closer. His hands cupped your face gently, and his touch was both familiar and electrifying. It sent shivers down your spine and made your heart race in your chest. Every nerve ending in your body seemed to come alive at his touch, and you melted into him completely.
The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and sloppy. You fumbled with the bottom of his shirt, desperately wanting to feel his skin against yours. Pulling it over his head, tracing light circles on his chest with your fingertips. His skin was warm and smooth beneath your touch, and he let out a soft sigh.
With one swift motion, Matt lifted you up onto one of the nearby benches. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he continued to ravish your lips with his own.The ache between your thighs grew almost unbearable, and you ground your hips against his in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pressure. He groaned against your lips, the sound sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins.
With one hand on the small of your back, Matt held you tightly against him. The other trailed down between your bodies, his fingers deftly undoing the button on your jeans. He dipped his hand inside, finding you hot and wet and ready for him.
"Matt," you moaned breathlessly, "please... I need more."
He didn't need to be told twice with a swift motion, he removed his hand from between your legs and pulled down both your panties and jeans in one go. Then he positioned himself at your entrance and pushed inside slowly giving you time to adjust to his size.
You gasped as he filled you up completely - stretching you open in the best possible way. The feeling was overwhelming; a heady mix of pleasure and intensity that left you wanting more.
He fucked you against the wall of the lockers your legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into you. Matt's hands roamed over your body, gripping and squeezing every inch of flesh he could find. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. A soft moan escaped your lips as his teeth grazed over your collarbone. You could feel his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, the pleasure building inside you until it was too much to bear. You came hard, your pussy clenching around his cock as he continued to fuck you through the orgasm. For several moments, both of you were reduced to nothing more than ragged breaths and trembling limbs. Eventually, Matt pulled out and collapsed onto the bench beside you with a contented sigh. "That was fucking amazing," he said, pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your temple.
You nodded in agreement, still too breathless to speak. The two of you sat in silence for a while, basking in the afterglow of your passionate tryst.
Eventually, you both realized that you should probably start heading home before someone came to investigate the source of all the noise. You gathered up your discarded clothing and helped each other get dressed, sharing a few more heated kisses along the way.
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seellove · 3 months ago
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Counterfeit Shrines // sukuna x female reader
Masterlist
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Chapter 3 - The Danger in Starting a Fire // (4.2k words) // Explicit - 18+
\|/ AO3 - Chapter 3 | << Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 >>
You're a late bloomer when it comes to cursed energy, entering Tokyo Jujutsu High partway through the 4th year on the support student track. Because of this, you get paired with the only combat track sorcerer without a partner for obvious reasons, Ryomen Sukuna. He's had a tragic upbringing as a human that is part curse with dark expectations for how to live his life. However, after meeting you, he slowly starts to see the possibility of a different path with someone he might love.
Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are Jujutsu Sorcerers in a JJK AU, explicit smut, violence/blood/injury, dubious consent, dubious morality, drug and alcohol use, falling in love, angst, comfort, fluff, happy ending
Sukuna POV
I can taste blood in my mouth and feel it trickling down my chin and neck. No way this bitch just hit me, how did she even manage to do that? No support student should ever be able to lay a hand on me. She’s laying on the ground now though, unconscious I guess. 
I can move my body again, what kind of technique was that? Some kind of paralysis maybe? I’m intrigued, she could be worth something after all. No one gets a lucky hit on me. She beat me on our math quiz, immobilized me, and landed a hit on me, so she’s smart and possesses some kind of strength. When she wakes up I want to know more about her technique.
As I kneel down I notice the training grounds are silent, looking on at me. Toji and Gojo run over. 
“Damn bro did she do that?” Toji grins pointing at my mouth. “Didn’t think she had it in her.” I swallow in response, these fools are witnessing a once in a lifetime moment with a support student making me bleed.
“Did you do this to her??” Shoko exclaims, hovering over her while glaring up at me.
“Wow Suk, are you losing your touch?” Gojo laughs as he slaps me on the back. I shove him away hard, his infinity protecting him from me actually touching him. 
“Here I’ll take her to the clinic,” I say, eager to get away from all the commotion. I lay one arm under her knees, and one behind her back, gently lifting and cradling her against my chest. I notice Kiko and Yorozu glaring at me. Stupid hoes are jealous of an unconscious girl. 
I leave the training grounds without looking at anyone else. When I’m further away, I channel my cursed energy into her body, identifying her injuries. I really did a number on her, I’m not about to use reversed curse technique (RCT) though, this isn’t my problem.
I’m kind of impressed honestly, it was her first day doing this and she put up a good fight. She might actually be worth training. Plus she seems smart, dumb people bore me. I’ll try to talk to her more when she wakes up. 
I kick the door open to the medical clinic and enter the intake room. I explain what happened, remembering that I was quite physical with her before all this happened. I walk her back and lay her on the exam table. 
The doctors said 3 broken ribs, punctured lung, broken hand, and passed out from overuse of cursed energy. They perform healing techniques but say that she still needs to rest. I think I’ve done enough, I think I’ll come back later, just to try and talk to her. Maybe after hours when no one is around, it's not like I sleep a lot anyways. I leave the ward and decide to go have an early dinner.
Your POV
You hear a bit of chatter around you. Everything is still dark, but you feel your chest and stomach throbbing. Slowly but surely your vision returns, revealing Shoko, Gojo, and Geto sitting at a table along the wall. They look to be playing some kind of game. You try to sit up but a sharp pain tears through your body as you realize it’s not possible right now. You break out into violent coughing which alerts them of your return to consciousness.
“She’s awake! How are you feeling,” Shoko says as she rushes to your side. “We brought you some soup.” She holds up a container. 
“I’ve definitely been better,” you wince while trying to force a smile. 
“Doctor said broken ribs and a broken hand plus a punctured lung. You’re a badass if you ask me,” Geto grins at you while patting your shoulder gently.
“Holy shit,” you mutter, this is not how you wanted your first day to go at all. 
“Sukuna is a real ass for that,” Shoko seethes next to you, “there is no need to go that hard in a training class for support students. I love that you busted his lip up though, not many of us can leave him speechless like that. I guess he felt some slight remorse as he’s the one who brought you here.”
You barely recall the events before everything went black. Guess you broke your hand on the impact with his face. Which you are pretty proud of by the way. 
You start to get tired again so your friends bid you farewell for the night. The night nurse comes to check on you and then dims the lights for the evening. As you start to doze off, you hear the door to your room slide open. In the darkness you can make out a person, but it’s the glowing red eyes that really stand out. You sit up abruptly, wincing with the pain in your stomach.
“Relax, it's just me,” you hear a deep voice. 
Sukuna, what the hell is he doing here? The room lightens up as he adjusts the light switch. His towering form approaches the hospital bed, and he looks to be carrying a small bag. Your ego swells a bit when you see his busted lip, swollen and dark.
“Oh did you come by for round two, beating me up once wasn’t enough for you?” You snap at him. 
He smirks at you as he places the bag on the bedside table. “Not in this pathetic state. Where’s the glory in beating up someone who can’t even walk?” 
“Oh glad to know that’s the only reason. Not any of the other endless reasons including beating up your new classmate who’s been using cursed energy for one day. You sure are a tough guy tearing up such a strong person like me.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he says shortly, gritting his teeth in annoyance, “I came to ask how you did it. Was it a cursed technique?” 
“Did what?” 
“You know what I’m referring to.”
“No I don’t think I do, why don’t you be specific?” You smirk, trying to antagonize him.
His eyes darken as he side eyes you and a scowl overtakes his face. He crosses his arms and looks down at you.
“Ok now you are just being a stupid brat,” he rolls his eyes before locking them back on you. “How did you stop my legs from moving and do this?” He points at his mouth. 
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t care, but I can appreciate a good use of cursed energy when I see it.”
Good use huh? So you seem to have impressed this asshole a bit.
“Yes, it was a cursed technique. I inherited it from my dad. It didn’t actually manifest until the summer, thus how I ended up here as a 4th year. As for how I used it, I can’t be too certain, it was almost instinctual because I haven’t trained much with it. I just know I was extremely angry and it’s like my body and mind knew what I needed to do.”
Sukuna nods, listening intently, actually seeming to be invested and engaged in what you have to say. He pulls a chair over so he can be at your level, settling in next to you. He leans back and props one leg up on his knee. 
“Are you able to tell me more about how it works?”
You hesitate, you can’t help but wonder if there is an ulterior motive to his questions. 
“Look, I just like learning about jujutsu, nothing bad will come from this,” He follows up. He must have read it on your face.
“My technique involves doing almost instantaneous math, physical, and chemical analysis on things. I can run cursed energy through the voids or pores of something, and convert the energy into various materials with differing strengths depending on what is available. To break it down using an example, say you are repairing a sidewalk. Typically you need to know how much pressure the soil beneath the sidewalk can handle from the weight of the concrete. You also need to know how strong to make the concrete depending on the load being applied to it. I can run my cursed energy through the cracks in the sidewalk and voids in the earth, analyze all of this, and then basically turn my cursed energy into the perfect strength and makeup of concrete needed to repair the sidewalk correctly. But it all happens in seconds. I haven’t gotten to use it too much, but that was one thing my dad taught me before coming to school. Sorry that was incredibly nerdy sounding,” you chuckle at the end.
Sukuna��s eyes widen a bit and one side of his mouth twitches with a small smile. “Yeah a little nerdy, but also pretty neat honestly. So you are really good at math then huh? I remember you got a perfect score on that match quiz not even knowing what it was about.”
You are surprised at his response, but crack a guarded smile. “Yes it was pretty easy to be honest.”
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together. “So what’s your future plan then?”
You swallow before responding. You didn’t expect to be confiding this type of stuff to Sukuna of all people. But you were weirdly appreciating his company. “My hope is to be an engineer for the jujutsu society here in Tokyo. I’d like to be able to help assess and repair structures that are damaged by combat sorcerers, as it’s inevitable that things like buildings, bridges, and roads will take some damage during a fight. So I’d plan to go to engineering school after high school to learn more about the theory of such things so I can better wield my technique.” 
You look up at him and notice he is very focused on your words. Your eyes search his face, trying to find something hinting at what he is thinking. He finally breaks the silence, his face softening. “That’s quite a goal you’ve got there. I didn’t even know those types of sorcerers existed.”
“My dad is one,” you answer him, “it’s definitely a niche skill set that’s for sure.”
He leans back in the chair, slouching a bit as he rests his arms behind his head. His shirt hitches up just a bit to reveal a sliver of his abdomen. You notice a tattoo that seems to snake into his waistband. You blink quickly and immediately snap your gaze back up to his, scared he might notice your wandering eyes. He might be an asshole but damn he is hot. He raises an eyebrow slightly and his mouth twitches with a faint grin, but he doesn’t address it. 
“Well I think it’s impressive, can’t say any of the other support students have such aspirations. Probably one of the smarter people in our class,” his eyes are partially lidded as his smoldering gaze meets yours. Your breath hitches a bit, did he just compliment you? 
“If you are up for it, I’d like to give our partnership another try. Your potential is…intriguing to me,” he states as he runs a hand through his pink hair, giving it a tousled look. 
You ponder his words. You are wary given your first attempt at combat training with him. After all, you wouldn’t be laid up in a hospital bed if he hadn’t gone crazy on you. However, you can’t deny his strength, and feel you could learn some stuff from him. 
“Sure, we can give it another go,” you respond. 
“Good.” He rises up from his chair and moves it back to the wall where he got it. “Well I’m going to head out,” he yawns, a sleepy look starting to cross his face. “That bag is for you by the way, sweets from dinner,” he gestures towards the brown bag he had placed on your bedside table when he entered. 
“Oh wow thanks, you didn’t have to do that,” you blush in response. 
“Yeah whatever, thought it could be a bit of a peace offering,” he scoffs a little. “Want the lights off again?”
“You can dim them a little, I don’t really like being in the pitch dark. It’s a little creepy here.”
He snickers, dimming the lights. “Good night,” he states as he turns to leave, closing the door softly behind him.  
You stare up at the ceiling, what the hell just happened? You hadn’t known Sukuna for a long at all, but going out of his way to check on someone didn’t seem like something he would do. You peek into the bag to find three mini eclairs carefully packaged up in a cardboard box. The clinic food hadn’t been the best, so you happily indulge. Then you settle into the sheets, sleep coming on quickly after the disaster of a day you’ve had.
***
After 3 days in the clinic you are allowed to leave to go back to your dorm. Every day the medical staff treated your injuries slowly healing you back to health.
“How are you using cursed energy to heal me?” you asked your doctor as she came in to do one final check before discharging you.
“It’s called reverse curse technique, it allows cursed energy to mend internal and external injuries. You just can’t do it all at once or it will overwhelm the body, thus how I had to do it over a period of days,” she explained as she ran her hands over your stomach checking your ribs and lungs one more time.
“Wow, that's fascinating, is it difficult to learn?”
“Yes, it's not a very common technique. Myself for example, I’ve dedicated my career to this and trying to hone it. I attended medical school after high school here to learn about the human body while also continuing to train here to apply my knowledge in college using cursed energy.” 
It sort of sounds like what you hope to do, and what Shoko has talked about doing as well. The whole jujutsu society is very interesting to you and you enjoy learning as much as you can about it. The doctor tells you to come back once a day to continue to monitor your treatment, but you should be good to go about your daily activities now.
You’ve missed feeling the sun on your skin and breeze in your hair as you exit the building. Inhaling deeply, you feel your senses come back to life as you bask in the crisp morning air. 
Finally back in your dorm, you immediately strip so you can take a proper shower. While you start to get the bathroom ready, you see your phone light up with an unknown number texting you. 
Unknown: Are you out of the clinic yet?
You: Who is this?
Unknown: Sukuna, I got your number from Shoko
What the hell, why is he texting you? 
You: oh ok. Yeah I got out this morning.
Unknown: Cool. We need to do a project together for history class
You: ok…why are we together?
Unknown: we had to pair up with our combat training partners. Not my rules brat. 
You decide to just not respond for now, it was Saturday so thankfully you didn’t have any classes, but you surely would need to catch up on work you missed out on while in the clinic. You step into the shower and let the water flow over you, the hot water soothing your sore body. 
Feeling much more refreshed now, you wrap your hair in a towel and wrap a plush bathrobe around your body. You walk back to your bedroom and see Sukuna had sent another text asking if you two could meet up today so he could fill you in on the project. He seems to care about his schoolwork at least. You tell him he can come over in an hour. 
You get into your bed and start to play around on your phone, zoning out watching TikTok’s of fall fashion for the year. Next thing you know you hear a loud knock on your door. Fuck it’s been an hour already!!
You jump up, still in your bathrobe and hair wrap, and crack the door to see Sukuna looking down at you. You swear he blushes as he smirks, looking you up and down.
“Well if this is what you meant by come over in an hour I’d have come over sooner,” he drones as his eyes trail down to your chest.
“Oh my god no, I’m sorry I just got out of the shower,” you feel your face flush, trying to regain your composure to not to egg him on. “Just come in and I’ll finish getting ready in the bathroom.”
Each dorm room has an extra desk so he goes to sit down in the extra chair. You grab some clothes out of your drawer and steal away to the bathroom, closing the door. You let yourself collapse against the wall, now letting the embarrassment out. You are sure he’s seen girls in much less, so you try to just let it go, but still you aren’t someone who has been around a guy in that way, so you can’t help but cringe a bit at the interaction. You quickly dress yourself and just leave your hair wet and down for now. 
Sukuna looks up as you reappear from the bathroom. You notice he has a gold chain on, his white t-shirt and baggy black jeans look so flattering on him, tattoos sculpting his arms with his neck ones peeking out from his shirt. It's undeniable how attractive he is even though he has the approachability of a cactus. Your mind wanders dangerously to thoughts of him laying you down on the desk and positioning himself between your legs. His fingers in your hair as his mouth finds your sensitive collarbone - 
Your whole body almost jerks as your vision comes back to you. What the hell were you doing? Your eyes flick up to meet his staring back at you, a hint of amusement flashing across his face. 
“I brought you some breakfast, I wasn’t sure if you were able to make it over there this morning,” he says as you notice a small to-go container on the desk behind him. 
“Wow yeah I actually am starving,” you respond, you didn’t even realize you were hungry while you had been fantasizing. He hands you the box and you sit down at the desk next to his. You open the box and see a mixture of rice, egg, and vegetables. It looks and smells delicious. 
“I wasn’t sure what you like,” he says stoically, his face devoid of any emotion as he stares down at the floor.
“This is perfect thank you.” You are surprised at the gesture, then remember he had come to the clinic bearing food when he visited you. You chuckle to yourself internally, food must be his version of a truce. 
“Mhm,” he hums. He watches you out of the corner of his eye as you scarf your food down. 
“So how long have you gone to school here?” you ask him. You figure if you were going to be spending extended amounts of time with each other you’d at least try to make it more civil and bearable. 
“This is my third year here,” he answers shortly.
“Where did you go to school before this?”
“Nowhere, I was homeschooled.”
“So did you only start using cursed energy 3 years ago?”
“Fuck no, I’ve been using it since I was a kid.”
“Oh wow, how did you learn and who - “
“Enough questions, I don’t want to talk about this, especially with you,” he snarls finally, making you stiffen in alarm at his harsh response. Fuck him, he gets to be such an asshole but god forbid you do anything he deems to be remotely annoying.
“Ooooo mister too good to talk about themselves, so mysterious,” you mock and roll your eyes at him. 
Sukuna grits his teeth and you can see a hint of his canine protruding from his lip. You challenge his glare, refusing to lower your head. You both stare at each other, an unspoken dual of who can break first. Suddenly he lunges at you with his arms up, causing you to flinch, until you realize he was faking it.
“Loser,” he scoffs, the side of his mouth twitching up as he runs his hand through his pink hair, causing it to spike up even more. “Now shall we start on this project?”
You just shake your head in annoyance, pulling your notebook out of your backpack. “Sure, so what do we need to do?”
He turns around and straddles the chair to face you on your bed, his arms hanging over the backrest. “Each group was assigned a region of the world. We need to choose and research a conflict that happened in the last 50 years in the region, then present it to the class.” 
“Ok that seems simple enough. What region did we get?”
“Central America.”
You finish jotting the info down in your notebook. “Hmm ok, so that’s like Mexico, Panama, Costa Rica, that area huh?”
“Yeah, basically south of the US and north of Colombia.”
“Wow Mister Worldwide,” you snicker.
“God you are so annoying you brat,” he stares up at the ceiling and shakes his head. You catch an amused glint in his eye as he looks at you again. 
“It’s not a bad thing,” you shrug, “I prefer associating with smart people actually.” This guy takes everything as a personal attack. 
“Likewise,” he intently stares back at you. “What were your grades like at your old school?”
“Are you just going to call me a loser if I say they were good?”
“No! Like I said, I prefer smart people. Fucking listen.”
You lay on your stomach towards the footboard, sitting up on your elbows to face him, notebook in front of you. “I’ve never gotten below a B. Usually had all As except in Writing and Reading. You? Can’t be working with a meathead who can’t pull their weight.”
“All As except in Math,” Sukuna responds. “I find the school here easier than when I was at home.” 
“Where is home for you?”
“Like 2 hours from here, Uruame and I grew up together.”
That name didn’t sound familiar. But you hadn’t exactly been able to meet many of your classmates yet thanks to this menace putting you in the hospital.
“I see. So any ideas for our topic?”
“How about the cartels and drug trafficking?” he suggests, looking way too excited.
“What the hell?” you snort. “That's so specific.”
He rolls his eyes. “Drugs interest me. You being from a private school I’d have thought you would have dabbled in that.”
“How did you know I went to a private school?”
“I dunno someone mentioned it at some point,” he responds in an aloof tone.
“Anyways, what a bold assumption to make that private school kids are involved in drugs,” you lash out at him.
“I know for a fact that private schools have a higher demand,” he snaps back, “now answer the question.”
“Fine, a few times, but no more than that. I was a serious athlete and it didn’t really align with my goals at the time.” 
“What did you try?” His face contorts into a sneer, eager to hear more.
“Dude we just started talking and you are asking me about drugs?”
“Do you really think I’d get you in trouble over this? I just want to hear about this other side of you. From my perspective you are a spoiled rich kid with a good family. One who happens to be smart as fuck with some jujutsu potential.” 
You blush as you ponder his words. “No that’s not it…I just don’t know you at all. Typically people don’t go talking about illegal stuff with strangers.”
“When does someone stop being a stranger in your eyes?” he challenges you.
You process what he just said for a minute, it’s almost a philosophical question. “I’d say it’s not about the time that’s passed, it’s about gaining a level of familiarity with someone where you can anticipate how they’ll act and respond to things. That doesn’t mean they are a safe person, just that you are able to predict their intentions.”
He cocks his head a bit to the side and looks at the wall, looking like he’s thinking deeply before speaking. “I’ve never thought of it that way before.” 
He looks back at you, leaning back against the desk and propping his legs up on the back of the chair. 
“We will probably move on from strangers eventually, we do have to spend time together. I’d prefer to at least have a little familiarity with an unknown man as a young woman, so I’d appreciate it if you toned down the asshole behavior in the near future to make this at least a little more bearable,” you say sternly.
“Well we will have to just see where it goes.” He twists the gold chain around his fingers, his eyelids just laying a little lower than they were before. 
“Or you’ll just have to get used to it.”
<< Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 >>
Masterlist
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twisted-gremlin · 1 year ago
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Platonic yandere first years!
Ace(sibling):
- he is overly protective of Yuu, makeing sure that they are by him at all times
- he was glad that they can't use magic but has alot of mixed feelings about them following him to NRC
- he practically begged Crowley to let Yuu into Heartsbyul- but there was no room (he didn't mind shareing his bed- but, his roommates better leave you alone)
- he invites you to every celebration! Why? Oh Trey was worried you're not eating enough in that shack with the greedy rat-
- he isn't strong enough to actually kill, but he is cunning enough to manipulate people, trying to get a boyfriend without his permission- hey look at all this homework- oh he wants to break up and hates you? Oh big brother is here for you-
- you're never leaveing your bother♡
Deuce(sibling)
- he is worried that his baby sib is gonna go down the path he did- he made sure that any gangs would never take you in, but would beat to death whoever dared lay their hand on you- its ok- he and mom is there to hold you and protect you-
- his mom sent you to NRC so that he could protect you, and he swore to her that he would.
- he allways walked with you to class, he even made you join the track club, Jack was trustworthy, right?
- you have some things you are allowed to do on your own, just be careful, of anything goes wrong and he finds out, he isn't letting you do that stone again
Jack(bestie)
- he saw you as like a little cub that was lost and alone when he first saw you
- as you two grew to know one another, he did his best to take care of you. Hungury? He has some extra food, it's not like he bought it just for you- cold? Idiot, you need a scarf- so what it has his sent? You'll be protected from other beastmen who may want to pick on you
- he greets you every day and walks you to class (like he did with ruggie), if he has the time he waits outside of your class and walks you to your next one
- he wont let you think about going home, why go home when you have it so great here? I'm sure none could love you like he does, or even protect you like he can when you're at home-
Epel(sibling):
- excuse me- he is the man here- he can take care of ya- why are you laughin-
- Epel beats the snot out of those who try to hurt his sweet and innocent baby sib- they are a sweet apple tart- none hurts em-
- Epel before Vils traning was much- much more aggressive towards others, with a slight sweetness. But now, he acted more sweet and innocent until the time came where his opponents was in their backs
- now he uses thar cuteness to ask to hangout and stay by your side. You can't exactly say no because... look at that face-
Ortho (sibling):
- in life, you weren't all that close to Ortho- he and Idia were allways hanging out with eachother.
- then the accident happend, now you can get rid of the fake brother or your older Otaku brother-
-you're at NRC because of said Otaku, so while he was in class, you got to do whatever you wanted- and a certain robot followed your every move
- if Ortho evaluated someone as a threat they would be exterminated as soon as possible.
- you tired to get him to leave you alone, to make his own friends and learn about others. But he would make his following you a bit more... subtle...
- while he tried to get his big brother outside, he kept you inside. He played games with both you and Idia, to keep you content and stay
- need anythjng? He will get it for you, he wants to be a good brother for you- so you don't have to linger in your hurt anymore- so you didn't have to be alone anymore-
Sebek(friend/Maleus' bestie)
- you as a pathetic human from another world had caught the eye of Malleus, so, he needed to vet the human to he sure they were good for his master
- his first meeting with you was interesting to say the least. Despite your conditions (and his attitude) you treated him kindly and sat down with him and had an array of tea and baked sweets (courtesy of the Heartsbyul bois)
- he started to see why his master took a likeing to you, you were sweet, a good listener, and even interesting. He just, couldn't understand why you would want to return to your boring world?
- his master would take amazing care of you- even extend you life! All you had to do was ask!
- so why are you breaking their hearts and asking for help going home...?
- maybe... your mirror could be broken? This Mickey is a distraction, and they had room in Diasomnia, he will keep gaurd of your room, it'll be by Malleus'!
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almighty-letu · 6 months ago
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Day 6 Aleheather Week 2024
Day six, November 16th - Loyalty/Insecurity Create something that in some way shows Aleheather's loyalty to each other AND/OR their insecurities.
I decided to go with both with a little bit of my own spin in this. I always wanted to learn more about Heather's past in the show, and I always wondered how Alejandro would react to that. This is that story fully realized. Hope you enjoy!
Alejandro was precisely the type of guy that once used to be way out of Heather’s league.
Back when she was fat, pimply, and ugly; Alejandro would’ve never had taken a second glance at her. She knew his type way too well. He is a womanizer. A playboy. A casa nova - the type of guy who likes to toy with girls’ feelings just because he can and then make a fool out of them as a lesson for being so stupid and vulnerable in the first place.
Of course, Heather was not like that anymore. She’d evolved and become better for it. She was proud and confident of the fact she’s gorgeous nowadays, but the wounds ran far too deep and still stung.
Maybe that’s why she was so cautious and reserved around him when he was first introduced in the show. Heather caught on from personal experience the type of danger he poses and was quick to target him as a threat. And though Heather tried to resist his charms at first, she, just like every other girl, fell for him. And Heather hated herself for it. Hated the fact she was no better than anyone else.
Still, she could come out on top and say she accomplished the one thing every other girl can only dream of.
Heather bested Alejandro.
She beat him at his own game.
Heather took him down.
She gave Alejandro a taste of his own medicine.
Heather tamed him.
In his own words atop the volcano, somehow, she managed to steal his heart and win him over. Alejandro was hers and no one else's.
In a movie this would be the big defining moment for her. The ugly duckling becomes a swan and gets the guy in the end. But how can she ever lower her guard around him knowing his past tendencies? Knowing deep down inside what she really is? If Alejandro ever found out about her he’d be disgusted by her for sure. In that sense, though they were officially in a relationship, she took it with a giant grain of salt knowing he would never accept her for who she is.
And that’s fine by her.
Heather would rather be known as the mean hot villainess of the show than the ugly loser she once used to be.
Or at least, she thought she was.
The two of them held hands as they walked along the street together, Alejandro chatting her ears off, when they were approached by a fan.
“Oh my gosh! Heather? Heather from Total Drama?” The girl ducked in front of them, halting their path with a wide goofy grin on her face. Heather raised an eyebrow, cautiously leaning closer to Alejandro
“Yeah? Who’s asking?”
“Heather, I am your biggest fan ever! It’s such an honor to meet you in the flesh.” The fan gushed. “Can I have your autograph please?”
Heather rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Let’s just get this over with.” She took the photograph from the fan and froze. Eyes wide and hands trembling. The picture the fan handed to her to sign was a picture of Heather back in middle school. Back before she had her glow up phase… back when she was short, ugly, fat, and all things hideous. “Where… did you get this?” She said slowly, trembling with anger.
“You like it? It took a pretty penny to get it from your school’s yearbook for my weight loss blog. Let me tell you, you are such an icon!” The fan blabbed on enthusiastically. “I look up to you so much! You are truly an inspiration for all of us. You're hardly recognizable! If I didn’t have confirmation no one would hardly know it was you.”
Heather balled her fists in anger, ready to murder the puny girl right here, right now.
“What’s this?” Alejandro blinked down from over her shoulder, getting a glimpse of the photo in her hands.
“N-no, it’s nothing!” Heather crushed the picture too little too late.
“Is that really you?” Alejandro asked softly.
Heather’s breath quickened, her heart racing as she started to panic. “I- no- I’m just-”
“It totally is!” The fan cut in. “Heather used to look totally different back in the day, and now look at her! Truly an icon.”
She couldn’t take it anymore. Heather dropped the picture and bolted. “Heather!” She heard Alejandro call out to her but she didn’t dare look back. She ran away blindly, shoving her way through the crowd to find someplace safe to be away from all the prying eyes staring accusingly in her direction. Trees and buildings blurred past her until Heather arrived at a park. She came to a slow halt near the lake, panting to catch her breath, limbs still shaking.
She dragged herself to sit on the nearby bench, hunched over as she fiddled nervously with her hands. Heather’s heart was racing a mile per second. She couldn’t breathe properly. Her stomach coiled and hurt.
Great. She sniffled, hating how weak and puny she’d become. It’s over between us. Alejandro will never look at my face the same way again. She buried her face into her hands with a sigh, trying to calm down and process her emotions like her therapist suggested.
Soft footfalls crushing on grass drew her attention. A shadow towered over her.
“Heather?” Alejandro called out softly, trying not to set her off again. “Are you alright?”
Heather laughed bitterly. “Does it look like I’m alright?”
Alejandro sat down beside her on the bench. “Okay. That was a stupid question. My bad.” He stared at her worriedly. Slowly he pulled out the crumpled picture from his back pocket, staring at it intently. “So… about this?”
Heather groaned, slouching on the bench with a deep seated sigh through her nose, hands still covering most of her face.
“I had no idea you used to look so different.” Alejandro commented, his voice calm. “You’ve made quite the change for yourself. It’s impressive! Really. That girl back there was right about one thing; you should be proud of how far you’ve come.”
“If you are here to give me the breakup pep talk, I’d rather you spare me the embarrassment and leave me alone, Alejandro.” Heather muttered, still not looking at him.
Alejandro blinked. “Breakup? What are you talking about?”
“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” Heather hissed, dragging her hands down her face. Her eyes are puffy and red. “I am not who you thought I was, okay? Turns out the hot mean girl you’ve been dating was once a sad, pathetic, ugly loser. Does that hurt your ego? Knowing you gave someone like me time of day?”
Alejandro frowned. “I wish you’d been honest with me from the start.”
“Oh I am so sorry for wasting your time - you’re right! All girls should come with warning labels and full history for your convenience. WARNING: Once used braces.” Heather spat sarcastically. “How dare us!”
“Please let me finish.” Alejandro placed a gentle palm on her shoulder. “I wish you’d been honest with me from the start, but I can see how deeply upsetting the topic is for you so I don’t fault you at all for keeping this from me. This clearly means a lot to you.”
“I’m fine!”
“No you’re not. You’re shaking.” Alejandro mildly pointed out.
“If you respect me at all you’ll do as I ask and give me some space.” Heather said.
“Heather, please, I am trying to talk to you.” Alejandro urged. “It’s no surprise the way you are reacting because, well, this is still you we’re talking about here. I know better than anyone else how much your own image means for people like us. But really it’s no reason to be embarrassed.”
“Easy enough for you to say that.” Heather hissed resentfully. “I bet you never struggled a day in your life. Probably had everything handed to you on a silver platter to your beck and call. How would you know anything I’ve gone through?”
“I would if you’d just tell me about it!” Alejandro pressed. “You are so hard on yourself, that you need to be this perfect image of the ideal girl, that you don’t even realize your own self worth.”
“I know my own damn self worth, thank you very much!” Heather snapped, jabbing a finger on his chest. “I worked hard to get to where I am now and I won’t let you or anyone else for that matter undermine that just because of who I used to be.”
“The only one undermining your achievements is you.” Alejandro told her. “And I am not leaving you until we get all those messy feelings out of your system. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
Heather deflated, her pride wounded. “You really wanna know? Fine! The truth is, the only reason I am where I am now is because of the effort I put into changing myself way back in the day. Because ever since kindergarten I was always deemed the ugliest girl in class. The kind boys would confess their feelings to as a prank. The kind they would tell their friends I had a crush on them just to ick them out. When I turned 15 I decided enough was enough and had a glow up and suddenly I went from ugliest girl in class to hottest girl in school.” She said dejectedly. “Everything I have, everything I am and stand for… is because of that one change. I have this life… I have fame… security… and you. Without that glow up, I wouldn’t be… I wouldn’t have… I just-”
“Heather.” Alejandro breathed, squeezing her hand.
“I didn’t want you to find out about me this way. Because let’s not kid ourselves; you are only with me because of who I am at my absolute best.” Heather sobbed. “I am barely worthy of your time otherwise because-” She ripped the picture from his hands, revealing the photo of a chubby ballerina with pimples and braces. “THIS IS WHO I AM!”
Alejandro stared at her. Slowly he reached out and pulled the picture away, staring into Heather’s eyes as he cupped her cheek. “Do you really think I am with you for your looks alone?” He whispered. “Change or no change, you would be this no matter what. I fell in love with you for more than just your beauty. I love your determination. Your resilience. How cunning you are. Even your stubborn nature at times can be so endearing. There’s so much more to you than what you see, and I love every part of it.”
Heather frowned. “You wouldn’t be saying those things if we’d met way back when.” She laughed nervously. “You really think you’d notice me if I were still fat?”
“I don’t see why not.” Alejandro said simply. “It’s just more of you to love.”
“Yeah right!” Heather scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“No really! I know you see me a certain way because of the way I presented myself back in the show, but that was all strategy. I am not so superficial to only judge a book by its cover.” Alejandro reasoned. “You are more than meets the eye, Heather. For what it's worth I am proud of how far you’ve come, but I don’t think you should be embarrassed by your roots. I don’t care if you were chubby or pimply or wore braces. That doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”
Heather lowered her hands, sniffling.
“Oh! Here.” Alejandro rummaged through his pocket and pulled his phone out. He tinkered with it for a few heartbeats before he handed it to her. “Take a look at this.”
Heather leaned closer, her eyes widening. On the phone was the picture of a way too skinny young boy with lanky limbs and cowlick hair staring deadpanned at the camera. “Wow.” She gasped. “That’s… uh, really something. I never-”
“Yup. That’s me alright.” Alejandro grinned. “As much as I like to brag about my perfect physique, I wasn’t always handsome like this. Trust me, no one likes to remind me of that more than Jose. He keeps me humble that way.”
“Huh, I guess I never really thought of you as anything other than the version I met.” Heather admitted. “You probably got bullied a lot, eh?”
Alejandro nodded. “Oh of course! With Carlos and Jose to compare to, I was massacred by the kids back in the day. But I showed them!” He puffed his chest. “We showed them. Have I calmed your nerves sufficiently enough to prove your worth?” He offered her a tissue.
“Thanks.” Heather accepted the offer, blowing her nose and wiping her tears away with her hand. “It kills me that this picture of me is making its rounds online. God! I will never hear the end of it if anyone in the show catches wind of this.”
“Hey, relax, we’ll think of something.” Alejandro soothed. “You know, we can always take a page out of Courtney’s book and make the girl take down the picture.”
“... Yeah. That sounds good.”
“Are you ready to go home?”
“Just give me a few minutes.” Heather closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she relished the soft breeze on her skin. With Alejandro’s hand in hers she watched the ducks at the park swim around, gathering her composure.
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styrmwb · 2 months ago
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I beat Wargroove 2.....'s Greatest Custom Campaign Ever
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Warning: Lots of glazing and ego coming up ahead
Back in October of 2023, ShadowMarioXLI (henceforth referred to as Eric, and found here, amongst other places) started creating a campaign in Wargroove 2; a sequel, to the one he made back in the original, featuring a story centered around the 41 Alliance + Mega Squad community. This endeavor would eat away hundreds of hours at this poor retired content creator and father, but it was a labor of love. Now, it's finally out!
Now you may ask, why do I care? This isn't even the main Wargroove 2. You haven't even played Wargroove 2. You haven't even played Wargroove 1. Well... I'm a part of the community! I've seen this campaign personally rip and tear Eric until he was done; so when I see that, plus I know that me and my friends are gonna be in it? I mean, I'm buying the game for this alone; and holy shit. All of the effort he put in was worth it.
The reason I'm writing this post, is because the man made A Full Game. Well. Obviously the Wargroove team made the game. But like, map design, story, you know. Full game! I HAVE to consider this as its own entry! Let me just barf the adoration I have over this wonderful experience for a million paragraphs.
#gameplay-and-map-design
Now, to clarify. This is not a Wargroove 2 post. I am not talking about the main game at all. Maybe I'll play it one day, but to be honest it's just not my concern right now. But to get some initial groundwork done, my background in strategy games is more Fire Emblem than Advance Wars, which Wargroove seems to be a lot more similar to (similar! not same. don't kill me.) But I did get the hang of it. I'll probably use that comparison a lot going ahead, so bear with me.
Anyways, what's really special and unique about this campaign is the map design. Every single map feels like it's not the same as the other. There are some more traditional maps, such as the first; capture buildings, build your army up, go fight the enemy commander. But then as you progress further, even the more traditional style maps have some kind of gimmick. Fog of war, magic items littered around everywhere, the enemy commander getting buffed for your units dying, it makes the whole experience feel super fresh; and that's not even talking about the not traditional maps! From a combatless puzzle map, to things that felt like Fire Emblem, with no buildings, just your units as you escape from a sewer, to a full on Zelda dungeon???? Dude. Even when I didn't care so much for the map, I could still appreciate the concept and creation behind it (there's really only one example here, where you're controlling 2 separate armies that eventually converge. I struggled.). They all have a unique identity. I liked being able to see the intended pathway through, as there was usually a very clear flow; such as going upwards and left, progressing as well as running from the horde of mobs running down the right, or swooping below an army to take a back path to the objective. I never felt Lost.
While most of the maps are super exciting and filled with combat, my real favorite maps were the ones where you just... walk and talk. There's about 5 of them? I think? They remind me of the inbetween sections in modern FE games, like the Monastery in Three Houses or the Somniel in Engage. A nice time to breath, explore, and relax; continuing to make progress in the game, but also resting. I think these sections helped me power through (I word this like it was a chore, it wasn't I promise), as not only was I able to progress the story, but my energy could be conserved for longer sessions. With the nature of the combat flow of this game, maps do take a while for the most part, and starting out, I could really only get through one or two a day (this sped up over time) due to Personal Energy Banks. The breathers were great.
Back to in the maps, I loved the usage of mechanics in the game. As someone that has not played the main game, I was learning as I went; and some of these maps were actual tutorials for me, without Literally being a tutorial. Some maps would teach me how to use a character's groove (their ult, basically) successfully by giving reoccuring usages, and/or building the map specifically around it. Some of my favorite examples are giving me a bunch of 1 HP idiots to learn how to Tee Off properly, or the aforementioned puzzle map showing me how to connect units to make the proper electrical shock. It's not even just the characters with grooves, I also got the hang of individual units with this. My top example of this is that sewer map I mentioned; it gave me an army of frogs that I could use to pull my enemies into the water, which I proceeded to never let go of and tried to abuse as much as I possibly could throughout the whole campaign LMAO; by the end of it, I feel like I had a really good sense for the game (to give credit where it's due, it wasn't just Eric's awesome map design, but the codex in the base game was very helpful.)
More things that made the maps fun and engaging; bonus objectives and secrets. Most every map had side goals to get higher star rankings for the map (I'm fairly sure this is a main game thing so I'm sure I'd like it there too), and they absolutely affected how I would play out the map, plus give it replayability if you didn't manage to get them all in the first try. As for secrets; there's a lot. A carry-over from his last campaign in the previous game, every* map has one space that if you bring a commander character there, will give you a fun little cutscene, developer commentary, and a bonus unit. Once I learned about these, they became a primary objective for me as much as I could. Not only do I get to hear my friend's thoughts, but then I also get something that helps me win my struggling battles!... most of the time. Or Eric will fuck with me and give me the most useless thing to exist. Jerk. Those of course, aren't the only secrets in the game. He hid a whole extra mechanic behind one, not to mention countless other lines of dialogue or alternate paths.
A couple more things that helped my experience, are base game creations. Sorry man, can't give these to you. The adjustable difficulty was a god send. I am Not great at this game, and the ability to make it easier (but not Too easy) was so needed. Plus the option to undo turns helped me learn the game properly/help me when I make stupid misclicks. Other than that, I really do love the groove system. Each character feels unique, and a lot of them felt super fun + turned the tide of battle. Tee Off is my absolute favorite. Finally, units. Golems and Frogs are my absolute joy. When I can flood the map with my army? I'm living on top of the world.
I think that even if you aren't able to appreciate what I'm going to be talking about going forward, you can appreciate everything here, and can still get something from this campaign. Now:
#the-part-where-i-talk-about-all-the-text (Plot + Setting)
I'm gonna be an Absolute Mess in these next parts, I Apologize.
The text is the other reason that this campaign brought me so much joy. A very, very, Very large script full of jokes and references in the form of a very silly yet creative plot, delivered from the mouths of caricatures of members of the community. From frame 1, it is a delight to read every text box possible (and there is A Lot holy shit); I don't think it's even possible to read every line of text, cause he just accounted for so many edge cases.
I think before I talk about the actual plot or anything, I have to talk about what it contains and why. Like I've said, this is a story that's a celebration of a community. Most every character is a real person with their real username. Other characters that inhabit the world are our Discord server's emotes (I'm not kidding.), and then a fair couple others that are either a video game reference, or a reference to something in the past relating to the community; and speaking of our Discord server, that's where it takes place. A very silly combination of an actual fantasy land and an online community that when you think about it too hard makes no sense but it believes in itself and it's great. Everything. is related to Eric and MegaFreak400 (like and subscribe and follow and donate to him he's my very good friend)'s creations and history, including their old Youtube Let's Play collab group of CrystalStarStudio. So you're gonna get a lot of silly video game references, a lot of mentions of trivia, of Maze Games, of naming game tunes, cause that's what all of this is! So now with that kind of background base knowledge, Hopefully what I'm about to say won't sound as insane (I mean, it's still gonna be insane. But insanity is fine if you can follow it).
The first campaign follows the adventures of :blueghost: the emote as they make friends and enemies through the Discord server, preventing it from falling under the clutches of the evil Pond (very funny) and the Star Warriors, led by the villainous SlimKirby (also very funny). So then what is it followed up by? Well, after a bit of a cast switch up, as people have left, joined, or became more prominent in the community (me!!!!), we get less of a lone character's journey, and more of Avengers: Infinity War/Endgame. In a plot that tries its best (and in my opinion succeeds but I am biased) to give a highlight to each Actual Person behind this, that also expounds on some story beats from the last campaign, the people of the 41 Alliance + Mega Squad band together... against Discord itself. There isn't a main character, the entire server is the main character. Sure, there are points of view you follow more than others (ME BABYYYYYY I'M THE MAIN CHARACTER), but it presents a bunch of storylines that are all able to tie together very nicely, especially right at the end.
Not that I would have been able to make anything close to it myself, but I genuinely think this is the best thing Eric could have had as the concept for this campaign. Having the enemy force be an entity rather than a specific person leads itself to a lot of very funny bits, but I also feel gives more respect and love to the Actual People that are referenced in the game. It was also very clever, taking the minor mention of Discord Nitro, and turning it into a whole plot arc. For one, the Star Warriors color just matches the Nitro color irl, so it works great there, but also it continues to feed into that reasoning for the antagonistic force to be something beyond a person. Also from there, I feel like the story follows up very well from the last one; especially in the way it handled new characters, or "dead" characters returning (using Discord and Nitro as the method for this as well was a very smart play). Another thing I think was a WONDERFUL play, which was not needed at all, was the prologue chapter. A walking map that contains as much cast/references to the last campaign as possible that gives people that don't know what anything is background knowledge, including a complete retelling of the first campaign in a massive cutscene, very similar energy to ATLA's Ember Island Players episode (this was on purpose, I'm directly referencing the dev commentary).
As this was my first experience with this fictional world, the novelty of it was nice and fresh for me. I loved how most areas, behind the veil of being a fantasy location, were just channels of the Discord. Others were locations that continued to fit into this universe by being a video game reference, or a community reference. It all fits together very nicely, where despite being ridiculous, it stays consistent. There's an arena, every fantasy world has an arena, but the combat is referred to as Smash. The administrators of the server are treated as the rulers and have their own island instead of a mod channel, but they are still referred to with the normal phrasing. Our never used #tv-spoilers channel becomes a desert, our #bulletin-board channel and #scheduled-events channels are still called those, but in universe serve an actual societal function of being the news network or a location. It's very silly, but very clever, and the way that it's all treated as normal helps suspend disbelief. You don't think about how this society works, you're just able to accept it.
#the-part-where-i-talk-about-all-the-text (Characters)
If you're reading this far, you probably know me, or have read another one of these posts. You know how I get about characters. This isn't any different. I'm sorry.
I think the best possible experience I could have had reading the dialogue of these characters, is thinking of the real person behind it. Yes, not a single person is exactly like their real life counterpart. Some are caricatures, some are a single bit turned into a whole person. But behind all of that, is a bit of the soul of that person. I absolutely love reading a piece of dialogue and thinking "yeah they would say that.", even if it was just one line for some, or every single piece of dialogue for another; and I think this really shows the love that was put into this project.
I'm not friends with absolutely everyone mentioned in the game. Not that I hate anyone of course, it's just the nature of community that you don't get to know everyone. It happens! But the people that I DO know, that I talk to near daily, it made me so happy to see what was done with them. Some of my personal favorites (personal bias/knowledge coming up ahead I'm very sorry, but also know there's more than just this):
Mega's high standards forming into becoming a great trainer and leader (and his frustration fitting VERY ACCURATELY in that final map). I also got a kick out of the constant flow of video game titles being thrown into his dialogue, or whenever he would say "it's anyone's game".
Eric poking fun at himself in the nature of retirement and parenthood through the lens of a king putting down his crown.
Pond's "hot takes" turning into an entire villain arc (but also because they aren't that in real life getting to be a friend :D). I liked the walking map where their redemption arc started, especially in the film conversation.
Summer's lovingly antagonistic nature being shown and flanderized in the form of a self-centered dog. (I think more than anyone I felt "she would say that" the most with her character)
Zany, along with his increased presence, being more than just a character based off his username, and more skeletal, in line with his actual brand. (I actually popped off at this)
Lucas's journey of shiny collection turning into being a legendary Collector. Something about the giant hammer and his general nature fits quite well in my head too, heheh.
Sallas's D&D history coming out in their dialogue, as well as the concept of being a Dragon Master (I've fought him in Pokemon. This is not an exaggeration.)
PK's whole character was hype incarnate. Once I learned about the history of him being the secret character in Eric's previous creations, it made his reveal and bit amazing. Honestly probably one of my favorites in the game.
Nam's pacifism truly being able to shine. I don't think there's anyone I can respect their morals and will more, it deserves to be shown like this.
Darth's competitive nature was shown quite well. I can't think of a better role for someone who I think I've had the most close calls with in Name That Game Tune.
Naran is someone who's personality and speech lends itself very well to a character. I loved the concept of Coach Naran guiding the battlefield with sport plays; and of course the obsession of the Yak Utopia fitting very well with the bits he loves to latch onto (positive, I promise).
Q of course gets to be full of cat puns; and her avatar was picked so well that I was genuinely convinced that vampires in Wargroove were just cats. I was ready to accept that. Something about her being the usual archiver of channels/running the no-context account being turned into a reporter fit very well.
and the part where I get to have the most ego
Me and my best friend, Sneaky (Nina) getting to be a duo unit worked perfectly. She fits very well as the louder one of the two, always talking about bugs and being more involved in the "thievery" aspect of our in universe job. I get to be the less confident one, but full of Final Fantasy references, and my general love of RPGs presenting itself as me wanting to be a great, famous adventurer. I could not be happier with how we were presented. AND OF COURSE WE'RE ALSO THE MAIN CHARACTERS OF THE SERVER SO YEAH WE'RE GONNA HAVE A HUGE AMOUNT OF FOCUS WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Again, there's SO much more love and accuracy beyond those examples. These were just my favorites. (IF YOU ARE A MEMBER OF THE SERVER I PROMISE THIS IS NOT A REAL RANKING OF YOU I'M TALKING ABOUT THE CHARACTERS THIS IS HARD)
Of course, while they aren't real people, I have to give credit to the Actual main characters of :blueghost: and :greyghost:, the Maze Game duo. A couple silly sprites made by Mega for Eric's game turned into full on characters. You could make a whole video essay of how their single expressions and horizontal/vertical movement turns them into the positive leader and vengeful warrior they are in the games. It's honestly astounding how Eric was able to turn some molehills into mountains here.
#a-creative-interruption
I was originally going to talk about the character of the Discord army in the last section, but then I realized; the reason why it's so enjoyable is something that's in the entire game. I gotta section it out. Bots in real life are nearly infinite. They're everywhere, they're annoying, they hurt people's accounts. It's why we don't have em in the server. So to turn that into an endless, alien invading army of robots? That's amazing. To have an abuse of a system given turn into a terms of service violation, leading towards deletion, and to turn that into an uncaring force ready to destroy the world? Perfect. To take the name of Discord's logo, and to turn that into the main villain. Outstanding. It is such a creative way to take the inspiration behind the campaign, and to turn it into a storytelling medium; and that's true of the entire game. It's creative! Like I was saying with how the world is presented as a fantasy land, but referred to with real life online terms, that's such a fun concept. Then you go into the map design, and of course the fact that they're all so unique is even more proof. To combine these two, I think the greatest shine of creativity in this format is one of the final paralogues, where :greyghost: and PK are in an ancient archive searching for a copy of Banji, :greyghost:'s friend. It takes the concept of file storage, turning it into a literal library. It's full of puzzles and mini battles. It takes that library concept further by placing books of trivia of the community, and fun references to the past. To tie all of this together, to have a really cool experience narratively AND mechanically is a wonder.
#the-part-where-i-talk-about-all-the-text (Funny)
To get back to the writing aspect of this game (and probably a shorter section but still just as important): it's very funny. Sure, humor is subjective, and of course a lot of the content matter is community injokes, but I think Eric's writing is absolutely hilarious; I found myself laughing INCREDIBLY loudly at at least one moment in nearly every chapter. (The reveal in the puzzle level was the best thing ever, not to mention the nearly never ending mini Stanley Parable he put in Nina and I's first map) Beyond the injokes, there's a healthy amount of fourth wall breaking, poking fun at gaming and the world with topics like remakes and AI (not just those but those are the ones that stuck with me) that serve both entertainment and a bit of coping with the state of what we all love. So many characters speak in dumb bits and references, and for the most part they really just appeal to my stupid sense of humor (I'm in this community for a reason I suppose). So many puns. So. So. SO many puns. I would love to see Eric's search history when it comes to this game's script. Gotta be(e) hilarious. The best part of this being a custom campaign for a game rather than its own entity, is that it's ABLE to be this too. It feels free.
#sm41triviahq-finale
I've been writing this off and on all day. Continuing to read this back and make sure it's like, legible; I feel like I could continue on forever, but I also feel like I'm gonna go in circles, so it might be time to wrap up.
This campaign was such a joy to play through. Eric put so much hard work into it, and like I've said to him a bunch, and will say again: it was worth it. The joy of a strategy game with awesome map design; the novelty of seeing my friends and all the members of the community past and present represented in this story that's more coherent than it has any right to be; the video game references, the internet humor, the absolute absurdity of it all, with love baked in.
In a way, I almost feel like this is a case study of sorts. You know, several times when playing it I was surprised. "One guy made this." Granted, some might say an entire community made this, but come on. One guy made this. And I think you could really look at a piece of media like this, and not only learn a lot of the people it represents, but the person who's lens you're looking through. I dunno. There's something kinda artistic about it that I think someone with a degree could do better than me at talking about, but it does help the experience.
I do not think that anyone not in the community, not Literally in the game like I am, will get 100% the same amount of enjoyment that I did. But I do think; that this is something that anyone who has knowledge of video game internet communities, modern and classic, or someone that likes strategy games, CAN get enjoyment out of. It's a very special beast.
The download code is 35LG5DUA. I have links to both Eric and Mega, the most important people in all of this up above, plus a couple other things, please check them out.
10/10. A labor of love that's also impressive in gameplay, and has brought me countless amounts of joy through laughter and heartfelt smiles.
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liillyliilly · 10 months ago
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Once Upon A Nightmare
akaashi keiji x reader words; 1015 synopsis; I am mad at you because I love you but you don’t love me back right now. AKA Once Upon A December with Pianist!Akaashi and Dancer!Reader but with more trauma.
Your fingers brushed over the painted ceramic jars that lined up neatly and nicely on the shelf. Stepping down the large and overwhelming grand staircase of the palace, you couldn’t quite place where you had seen all of this before. But you had seen it, almost as if a thin veil was placed over your eyes and the memories hid behind the sheet, but only could be seen with the sheet over your eyes.
That’s when the piano started to play.
If notes could be seen in the air, then they would've floated around the piano before drifting to your ear, circling your head before wrapping you up tightly and pulling you down the staircase.
A piano made of pure white and seemingly of brilliant stars, the only semblance of color was the small black stripes that dotted along the array of keys. Akaashi pressed down lightly, but yet with enough force to cause sound to erupt from the instrument.
“You’re bad at hiding from people, you know that?” He said, beginning to start the melody of your song. You tried to exit the ballroom, but his music pulled you in, keeping your grounded and wanting to stay right in the center of the music floating around the room.
"You're the best at being found." You retort. He just scoffs.
Hide and seek was a fun game to play, but you always lost to Akaashi. He always found you within 6 minutes. He once said your tell was how you giggled when you thought you had found a particularly clever spot to hide idly by.
It was late at night, outside was inky black. Akaashi was wearing his concert black. You were dressed in a long ballroom gown, also pitch black. The night, you and Akaashi stood out in the ballroom made of glistening white tiles. White diamond chandeliers. White romantic wallpapers. White snow littering the ground outside. Mid-December was always your favorite part of the year. You can't remember why, but you know there's a why somewhere.
You stepped forward twice, before leaning on your back foot and doing a small twirl. Akaashi began the song, his fingers gliding over the keys and creating melancholic noise. You chuckled a little when he stumbled over the bridge of the song, but he made up for it by going faster in the second chorus.
Your teacher always got mad at him when he did that. Speeding up after a mistake always made the mistake worse in the end.
But to you, any mistake he makes doesn't feel like anything ever went wrong. An on purpose error.
It might have been an odd sight to anyone who might have walked into the ballroom. But to you and Akaashi, it was just you two versus the quiet muffling of snow outside, encasing the pair of you into the broken-down palace. You were dancing with yourself, arms held up in the right position for someone else to lead but you continued to spin and twist with the beat of the song.
Your teacher made you and Akaashi dance together once. When Akaashi kept fumbling his path on the piano chords. The teacher shoved him off the bench and told him to dance with you. He wasn't the best partner to dance with, but he never stepped on your feet. Never.
Akaashi tried his best to keep his eyes on the piano, playing the song from his muscle memory. But it couldn’t be helped as he often glanced up to see you smiling to yourself as you danced around the width and length of the paneled flooring. Your shoes tapping against the glossy ground, and Akaashi’s heart pounding in his chest as he tries to pretend, that he isn’t affected by the way you move or the way you smile, or even the way your hair looks.
A skipped key made you lose track of your steps. So you paused.
“You messed up, the beat goes two, two, three. Not two, two, four.” You critiqued, before brushing off your dress. Akaashi scoffs before slamming his hands against the keys to create a screeching sound of agony come from the piano.
You react by stepping away from him, despite being already so far away. You hug yourself to self-soothe. His anger was too loud. You don't remember that.
“I was never good enough for you, was I?” Akaashi stood up from the piano, the force of his movement throwing the chair back with a thundering cry to the ground. The yellow rose tucked into his suit jacket fell down and onto the ground, he accidentally stepped on it as he approached you.
Akaashi wished he could sweep you into his arms. He missed you. Not this shell of you. It was fine the first month of recovery, but it had been nearly a year since the car slipped on the ice. Nearly a year since he had to drive to the hospital to yell at your teacher for making you go to a last minute competition.
“No. I was never good enough for you. I’m too slow and I stumble when the music isn’t played perfectly Keiji, you know that. You were always and have always been adaptable to accidents or changes, but I'm a stubborn ass when it comes to changing things up.” You stopped in your tracks.
He got closer with each word you had spoken. Face to face now, you could smell his overwhelming minty cologne. Peppermint, your favorite candy.
“That’s not how it was, Y/n. That’s never how it was. Your concussion messed everything up. Your memories are blurred and slurred together.” Akaashi tugs at his hair in a fit of upset. You reached out to him, trying to console him with your touch on his arm. He rips his arm away from your reach, fire glowing in his eyes.
“I wish that I had never met you.” What he really wished for was that your accident had never happened, that way, maybe you would have remembered him as your boyfriend rather than just your pianist.
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chaerssss · 1 year ago
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REDAMANCY
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Word count:- 2.5k
Pairings:- childhoodbestfriend!hwa x y/n
Type:- Mini series (part 2)
Genre:- Fluff, angst, romance, comedy, a hint of fake relationship. (look forward to the smut in other parts besties!)
Song reccs:- Love, Maybe (secret number), stay with me (miki matsubara), Day and night (Jung seung hwan), Some (bol4)
Seonghwa's theme:- Ditto instrumental (NewJeans)
Y/n's theme:- Gone instrumental (Rosé)
FYI:- The title means a love returned in full
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"it'll remind you of us."
The last words.
He heard from you.
It was like a cruel joke, a twisted game of fate. He had come full circle, back to where he started. No progress, no communication, just a crushing feeling of uselessness and heartache. The more he dwelled on it, the more he questioned himself. How could he have let this happen? You were the light in his life, the reason he woke up each morning and stayed up late at night. And now, you wanted to leave. But he couldn't accept it. He couldn't just let you go, not after all you meant to him. It wasn't over for him, not by a long shot.
You were drowning in the hustle and bustle of work, barely keeping your head above water. It was your coping mechanism, but let's be real, it wasn't sustainable. Hongjoong could see right through your facade and was constantly urging you to take a break, maybe even go on a vacation. He knew exactly what was causing your stress, who was causing it. But despite his best efforts, he couldn't do much to help. Letting go was easier said than done. How could you move on after just a few weeks when you've been holding on for seven long years? It was a tough pill to swallow.
"Y/n!" The waitress called out your name, and you hurried over to grab your order. As you fumbled through your pockets for payment, you noticed someone nearby drop their wallet. Without a second thought, you sprang into action and caught it with lightning-fast reflexes. "Oh, your wallet," you said, standing up to return it to its rightful owner.
And then you saw her.
Her hair was a waterfall of luscious black locks that cascaded down to her waist, so wavy and voluminous that you couldn't help but stare. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of branded sunglasses, but when she spoke, her voice was like a chorus of angels singing. "Oh, thank you so much," she said, her politeness only adding to her allure.
You couldn't help but think that you understood why Seonghwa would kiss her. With a woman like that, who wouldn't be tempted to steal a kiss?
Your heart skipped a beat and a wave of panic washed over you, causing your breath to hitch. Without a second thought, you hastily made your way out of the café, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere. But just as you were about to flee, a sight that could only be described as breathtaking stopped you in your tracks. There stood Seonghwa, leaning against his sleek car, exuding an aura of undeniable charm. It all suddenly made sense - the mysterious woman you had glimpsed inside the café. You knew you had to disappear, ensuring he wouldn't catch a glimpse of you.
As you confidently stride along the path, a resonant voice beckons to you. Distinct from Seonghwa's timbre, it compels you to turn around and behold a familiar countenance donning a puffer jacket that exudes an air of intimidation were it not for his welcoming smile.
"San?" You mumbled as he slipped his way to you, like a child. "Hey, its been such a long time."
"Of course it has been, what are you doing back in town though?" You asked while ruffling his hair, by standing on your tippy-toes. "Hey not my hair!" He said as he tried to settle them back, "nothing just came back for a vacay, mom was missing me..hey you got even shorter than last time I saw you!" He said in a teasing tone while he compared his height with yours.
"Hey I'm not short!" With angry pout, you walked further now with a company. His attention went to all the coffee you had in your hand and he insisted on helping you. "don't tell me you're going to drink this all.." he sounded concern bt you laughed and gently nudged him.
"New employees came, and some interns so they've been working hard." Although, you said it with a smile, San saw your tired eyes. "Have you not been sleeping well?" And he sees the smile on your disappear for a bit but you bring it back and look at him, "No, I'm just growing older."
"Come on, spill it out," he said, his voice laced with a hint of mockery.
You let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of unrequited love pressing down on you. Every day seemed like a struggle, carrying the burden of loving someone who could never be yours. If only there was a little more time, just a tiny bit more, maybe things could have been different.
"Is it the guy you always talked about?" The words hung in the air, and both of you fell into a contemplative silence. San could sense that he had struck a nerve. "Yeah, him..."
You were strolling along, casually pouring your heart out to San as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The memory of the first time you laid eyes on him still lingers in your mind. He was slightly smaller back then, but hey, you're definitely not complaining about his growth. What struck you the most was his undeniable sweetness, even though his aura could be a tad intimidating. But here's the thing, talking to him felt like a warm embrace, so effortless and comforting. Oh boy, that blind date? Let's just say it was an absolute disaster.
It was a day filled with torrential rain, the kind that makes you question why you even bothered with a blind date. As you anxiously waited at the restaurant you had reserved, a group of intimidating men, resembling something out of a mobster movie, caught your attention. Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, you spotted San, sneaking towards you with desperation in his eyes. He pleaded for you to hide him, and somehow, in a stroke of sheer luck, you managed to conceal him under the table.
San had always been a troublemaker back in college, but little did you know that he would turn out to be the unexpected source of laughter on this disastrous evening. Despite the chaos surrounding you, his witty remarks and mischievous charm managed to lighten the mood. However, as the night progressed, a harsh reality hit both of you like a ton of bricks - neither of you had any money. Your wallet had mysteriously vanished, and those menacing goons had stolen San's wallet, the very ones he had dared to mock.
With no other options in sight, you found yourselves facing the daunting task of washing dishes to pay off your unexpected debt. As you stood side by side, scrubbing away at the remnants of other people's meals, laughter filled the air. It was in that moment, amidst the suds and the clattering of plates, that you realized there was something undeniably special about this chaotic encounter.
Sometimes, the most memorable moments in life are born out of the most unexpected circumstances. And as you and San shared this bizarre experience, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that perhaps, just perhaps, this blind date disaster could turn into something extraordinary.
But, your heart was already stolen by a special someone. It's a common dilemma to wonder if you and your crush were meant to be, especially when the timing just doesn't seem right. As you pondered this, San noticed the sadness in your eyes and casually suggested, "Want to make him jealous?" His mischievous mind was clearly at work, and you couldn't help but be surprised by his bold suggestion.
And there was San, bursting with excitement as he unveiled his grand idea, leaving you utterly fascinated by the workings of his brilliant mind.
"Remember that incredible festival our town throws to celebrate the vibrant youth? The one that brings together people from all walks of life, aged between 20 and 40?" he began, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You couldn't help but anticipate what he had in store.
"He's going to be there... and guess what? You're coming with me!" San exclaimed, his voice filled with anticipation. "We'll dress up as a couple, or better yet, we'll act like one. Can you imagine the fun we'll have?" he chuckled, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
Your jaw dropped in disbelief, unable to comprehend the audacity of his proposal. "You must be a fan of those romantic movies, huh?" you quipped, unable to hide your amusement. (As if you are not.)
"I won't," you said, your gaze fixed on the ground, that familiar smile gracing your lips once again. San knew that smile all too well, a mixture of resignation and longing. It was as if your emotions were an open book, easily deciphered by those who cared enough to pay attention.
"Why, y/n?" San asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.
"Because he loves someone else, San," you replied, your voice trembling with a hint of sadness. "How can I possibly come between them? It wouldn't be fair to anyone involved."
Your words hung heavy in the air, a bittersweet confession of unrequited love. The weight of your emotions threatened to break your voice, but you soldiered on.
"If only I had the courage back then, if only I had known that what I felt was love," you continued, your voice growing stronger with each word. "I would have confessed my feelings, without hesitation. But now, it's too late. I can't turn back time."
Taking a deep breath, you locked eyes with San, his concern evident in his worried gaze.
"I don't think I'm meant to be with him, San," you admitted, your voice tinged with a mix of resignation and self-doubt. "Perhaps destiny has other plans for me. It's a painful realization, but I have to accept it."
As the words left your lips, a sense of acceptance washed over you. Though the path of unrequited love was a difficult one to tread, you knew deep down that you were strong enough to endure. And perhaps, just perhaps, there was a different love waiting for you, one that was meant to be.
"You know what..." San's abrupt pause caught you off guard, causing you to come to a sudden stop as well. His words hung in the air, filled with a mix of intensity and audacity. "You're an idiot!" he exclaimed, his tone devoid of any remorse. Confusion washed over you as you questioned, "What?"
"Yes, you are," he began, his voice laced with conviction. "You're telling me that you're willing to sacrifice your true love for someone who came between you and Seonghwa?" His eyebrows furrowed, reflecting his own inability to comprehend your actions. "What do you mean?" you asked, desperately seeking clarification.
"Y/n... it was always you and Seonghwa from the very beginning... she's the one who came between you two. And if we're talking about love and all... how can you be so certain that he loves someone else? What if he feels something for you too?" San's words were filled with determination, his unwavering belief shining through. It only made you scoff in response, dismissing his suggestion. "San, he doesn't..."
"Well, we can find out together," he proposed, his voice brimming with excitement. "By going to the festival." The mere thought of embarking on this adventure with San ignited a spark within you, filling you with a sense of anticipation and curiosity.
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As you step into the festival, your senses are immediately overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and smells of the bustling event. Food stalls line the streets, tempting you with their delicious aromas, while rides and games beckon you to come and play. But amidst all the excitement, you can't help but notice the abundance of couples around you.
Just as you're taking it all in, your friend San sneaks up behind you and surprises you with an ice cream. "Already looking for him?" he teases, and you shoot him a glare. "I don't think you have the right to mock me," you retort, "especially since you practically dragged me here."
But San just laughs at your adorable reaction. "Oh, don't be like that, baby," he says, leaning in a little too close for comfort. "Don't you know we're a couple today?"
Your heart skips a beat as he inches even closer, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "You're a little close, don't you think?" you manage to stammer out.
But San just grins, his eyes locked on yours. "Can't I?" he murmurs, leaning in even closer. "After all, you're my girlfriend, right?"
And there you are, playfully kicking his shins, causing him to hunch down in pain. "Don't mess with me right now," you assert, but San simply laughs away the discomfort. It's unbelievable that you're actually matching outfits with this man, wearing the clothes he personally picked out. Oh, the lengths you go for love!
But alas, Seonghwa is nowhere to be found. Maybe he didn't show up, thinking these things are too cheesy. Just as you start to lose hope, as if on cue, you catch a glimpse of him. His silhouette stands out in the crowd, and you can even make out his arm... which is being held by someone else.
Uh-oh, he's spotted you. You watch as he struts towards you, looking absolutely stunning. But just as he's about to reach you, San swoops in and pulls you close by your waist. You're so close to him that you can feel his chest against yours, and he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. Your heart starts racing, and you can feel your cheeks turning red. You knew what you were getting into, but this is still a lot to handle. Suddenly, you hear Seonghwa's voice calling out your name, and you snap back to reality.
As Seonghwa's business partner, Soo Hyun Jee stood beside him, her eyes locked onto you. Finally, she breaks the silence, calling out your name. You meet her gaze, and she can't help but comment, "So this is the famous y/n, huh?" With a hesitant gesture, she extends her hand towards you, and you shake it, feeling a sense of unease. "He never stops talking about you, y/n," she adds, introducing herself as Soo Hyun Jee. But there's something in her hesitation that sets you on edge, as if she's implying more than just a business partnership with Seonghwa. And there he stands, Seonghwa, frozen like a statue, unable to comprehend what he's witnessing in that moment.
Meanwhile, San, his hands still resting on your waist, takes the opportunity to introduce himself. "I'm Choi San, nice to meet you both." He extends his hands to both Soo Hyun Jee and Seonghwa, a subtle hint that he's aware of the tension in the air. "I assume you're y/n's friends?" he asks, trying to diffuse the situation.
Seonghwa finally finds his voice and confirms, "Yes, I am." But his words carry a weight, hinting at a deeper connection between you and him. "and how do you fit into y/n's life?" His eyes flickered over to San, who couldn't help but snicker at his over-the-top performance. You couldn't help but roll your eyes - if only he knew how ridiculous he looked. "It's a bit complicated at the moment, but I'm confident I can win over Miss y/n," he boasted. You slowly turned your head towards him, a creepy smile on your face, silently begging him to tone it down a notch. He must have sensed your disapproval because he quickly cleared his throat and suggested they all sit down and chat. You knew this was going to be one awkward rollercoaster ride.
Throughout the entire night, San was acting as though he was absolutely whipped for you, unable to keep his hands off of you. He effortlessly fulfilled all the typical couple activities, playfully making you feed him, capturing adorable pictures together, even helping you clean your mouth after a meal. He was a true gentleman, always ready to pull out a chair for you or offer his coat if you so much as shivered.
But amidst all the bliss, there was a moment when your eyes met Seonghwa's gaze. In that fleeting instant, you could see the pain and sorrow etched in his expression. It was a look that threatened to break your heart, so you quickly averted your eyes, unwilling to let yourself succumb to the emotions that would surely overwhelm you.
However, Hyun Jee, ever observant, couldn't help but notice the disdainful glances Seonghwa directed towards San. It was as if he believed he could outdo San's sweet gestures, scoffing at each one. Hyun Jee couldn't help but chuckle softly, fully aware that Seonghwa was undeniably smitten with you.
You're in a bit of a pickle. You're not sure if trying to make him jealous would even work, because it seems like he's got a trick up his sleeve. He's been getting a little too cozy with his "business partner" and it's making you wonder if he's playing the reverse card on you. But man, does he make you laugh! So, you decided to take matters into your own hands and give San a quick peck on the cheek. The poor guy nearly choked on his water and Seonghwa's eyes practically popped out of his head!
After your little tiff, you guys were ready to hit the road when suddenly, Seonghwa's mom appeared out of nowhere. Talk about bad timing!
"Hwa? Is that really you?" she exclaimed, approaching the four of you with a grin. In that moment, it hit you like a ton of bricks - you had lied to both of your parents about your relationship. Panic set in as you exchanged a quick glance with Seonghwa, silently urging each other to come up with a plan.
Before you could even gather your thoughts, San burst into laughter, unable to contain himself. "Ahaha, yes ma'am, we were indeed on a date at the festival," he blurted out, "and y/n is so affectionate, you won't believe i got kis-" You swiftly kicked his shin, a desperate attempt to silence him, and nervously chuckled, "Oh, he's just had a bit too much to drink, aunty...haha." Seonghwa quickly jumped in to cover your tracks, "Yes, mom, this is my friend San. We actually bumped into him here with his girlfriend, believe it or not. What brings you here, by the way?"
As you tried to navigate this unexpected encounter, the air was thick with tension and the need to keep up appearances. It was a delicate dance of weaving half-truths and quick thinking, all while desperately hoping that your web of lies wouldn't unravel before our eyes.
"Oh, I was just out running an errand and somehow managed to lose my way. It's been ages since I've wandered these streets, so I'm relieved to have stumbled upon you two. I assume you have your car, Hwa? Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's get going!"
With a playful nudge to both Hwa and yourself, she made it clear that it was time to leave San behind. Taking a deep breath, you leaned in and whispered to him, "I'll call you later to explain everything. Oh, and..." Your gaze shifted to Hyun jee, "make sure you take her home safely." And with that, you reluctantly followed your so-called mother-in-law.
Just great. Now you were stuck sitting in the same car as him. Despite your best efforts to convince Seonghwa's mother to take the passenger seat, you found yourself seated right beside him.
The atmosphere inside the car was thick with an almost tangible silence, as if it had a weight of its own. Not a single one of you had the audacity to break the stillness. Instead, your eyes were fixated on the passing streets, seeking solace in the outside world.
Just when you thought the silence would persist indefinitely, Seonghwa's mother shattered it with a seemingly innocent question, delivered with an air of nonchalance. "So, when am I going to be blessed with some adorable grandkids?" Her words hung in the air, carrying a mix of curiosity and anticipation.
It was as if a sudden jolt of electricity surged through the car, instantly capturing everyone's attention. The question had caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but exchange glances, searching for a way to respond. Seonghwa's mother, with her innocent expression, seemed oblivious to the impact of her words.
"Mom!" Seonghwa whined, his face turning a bright shade of red as he desperately tried to make his mom realize how inappropriate her questions were. "Aigoo, just look at him, so embarrassed! I know you two have already taken that step!" His mom continued, causing you to feel utterly mortified. You coughed and choked, desperately signaling your discomfort.
Finally, Seonghwa's mom ended the awkwardness with a sweet note. "Hey, I was just trying to lighten the mood. I know you two had a fight. And if it's because of you, Hwa, I'll scold you a lot. So, you better treat Y/N the way she deserves, alright?" She then turned to you, gently patting your head. "Y/N, my dear, I hope you find comfort with my son. And if there's ever a problem, you can always discuss it with me. I'm always here for you. Take good care of him too. You know how much of a crybaby he is..." With those words, she stepped off at her house.
"Leave Y/n at her house," she said, waving as she started to walk back. But then, she suddenly screamed, "I'm giving you an opportunity to give me grandkids!" This only made you and Seonghwa even more embarrassed.
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The car ride was filled with an uncomfortable silence, but then, unexpectedly, Seonghwa broke it with a hesitant question, "So, San...huh?" Your heart skipped a beat as you let out a sigh, trying to maintain a composed demeanor, "Yeah." But then, he said your name, and it was like magic. The way he pronounced it made your name sound like a symphony, flowing effortlessly from his lips. How could you possibly resist him? Please, Seonghwa, don't do this to me. Your mind raced with thoughts, desperately trying to keep your emotions in check. And then, he asked the question that pierced your heart, "...do you hate me?"
You sit there, your mind racing as you try to decide what to do. Your fingers fidget nervously as you contemplate your response. Finally, you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, "What if I say yes?"
His heart sank as he let out a heavy sigh, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel. The weight of his words hung in the air, shattering your world into a million pieces. The last thing you wanted was for him to stay away from you. "I love you, and I want you near me, I need you Seonghwa," you thought desperately, your heart aching with longing.
But what if you had the courage to tell him exactly how you felt? What if you took a leap of faith and bared your soul to him? With a deep breath, you gathered your strength and spoke, your voice as cold as ice, cutting through the tension. "That wouldn't happen unless you tell your parents the truth." A challenge and a plea all at once.
In that moment, Seonghwa realized the gravity of his actions. He had given up, succumbing to the unbearable weight of your disdain. He couldn't fathom what he had done to make you despise him so deeply. The pain etched on his face mirrored the ache in your own heart.
You were in a state of emotional turmoil, with tears streaming down your face as you confided in your mother about Seonghwa's mistreatment towards you throughout the day. Which you were a 90 per cent reason of.
However, when you disclosed that you and Seonghwa were never in a relationship, your mother's response caught you off guard. She had known all along, and it seemed like your parents were secretly rooting for you two to be together.
As your mother comforted you, she reminded you of your long-standing attraction towards Seonghwa. Even as a child, you felt a need to protect him, and in high school, he was always there to protect you. Your parents believed that you two were destined to be together.
Your father chimed in, emphasizing the importance of communication. Your mother then asked the question that you were hesitant to answer. "Did Seonghwa make you feel something?" You couldn't deny it. "I swear when he looks at me i can't breathe and i find myself incomplete without him. However, with him, I know i would be exactly where i wanted to be."
Your father couldn't resist teasing you, joking about how he couldn't believe he was listening to his daughter talk about her crush. Nonetheless, the laughter that ensued was a welcome relief from the tears.
Ultimately, your parents encouraged you to communicate with Seonghwa and explore where your feelings could lead you.
Somewhere in a different scene, things were quite the same, Seongjwa was also in his besides his mother, crying, pouring out his feelings to her. He recieved the same replies he same encouragements...but it was easier said than done. He spent the night awake, his heart aching with longing for you. The mere thought of your absence made him restless, yearning to hold you close and whisper sweet words in your ear.
He leaned against the cool glass door, his hair disheveled and falling around his face. Wearing an oversized shirt that revealed his delicate collarbones, he murmured to himself, "I miss you y/n-ah..." in the quiet of the night.
Seonghwa was determined to make you his, knowing deep down that you shared the same feelings for him. He believed that you too had endured years of pain and longing. He was determined to make up for all the mistakes he had made.
He held your earring tightly in his hand, bringing it close to his chest and feeling the warmth of your presence in his heart. With a tender kiss, he whispered those three magical words, "I love you..."
You rubbed your eyes and stumbled out of bed, still groggy from sleep. As you made your way out of your childhood bedroom, you were met with an infectious energy that filled the air. Your parents were practically bouncing off the walls with excitement, and you couldn't help but feel curious about what was going on.
"Guess what? We're going to Italy!" your mom exclaimed, practically jumping up and down with joy. Your dad was already planning out all the tourist hotspots he wanted to visit. And yet it took you a lot of time to realise they actually meant it.
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it's been a whole week since the whole 'italy trip' announcement and you found yourself seated on an airplane, right next to the one and only Seonghwa. you couldn't help but feel like you were caught in the middle of your parents' mischievous plan. It's like they ship you and Seonghwa more than you ship yourself! You even tried to complain to your mom about Seonghwa already having a girlfriend, but she quickly reminded you, "Oh, they broke up, remember?"
But here's the thing, deep down inside, you can't shake the feeling that Seonghwa's ex-girlfriend has made a grand return, disguised as his so-called 'business partner'. It's like a plot twist straight out of a romantic comedy!
And if that wasn't enough, your mom hit you with another perfect reason to go along with this trip. Apparently, Seonghwa's parents still believe you two are in a relationship. Talk about pressure! But hey, you couldn't resist the allure of this adventure, and you had no idea that Seonghwa's parents were in on the whole charade. It's like they were playing cupid, orchestrating this grand opportunity for you and Seonghwa.
And, Seonghwa was not about to let this chance slip through his fingers. He was determined to make the most of it, no matter what. Who knows what surprises await you on this journey? One thing's for sure, it's going to be a wild ride!
What really got under your skin was how much attention your parents lavished on Seonghwa. They seemed to prioritize him over you in every way imaginable - from giving him your favorite blanket to supplying him with an endless array of snacks. And whenever you tried to speak up, it was as if they were completely oblivious to your existence. It was beyond frustrating, especially when you know your mom would brush off your concerns with a casual "Oh, come on, he's my future son-in-law." If complained. Ugh.
As you shoot a sidelong glance at your parents one last time before the plane takes off, you can't help but feel a pang of annoyance. He turns to you and whispers, "I think your parents like me even more than you do..." You roll your eyes, unable to deny the fact that you actually liked him.
Now, he's sitting there, munching on the strawberries your mother specially handed him, and his gaze is fixed on you. "Why do you keep staring at me?" you finally ask, unable to ignore his intense gaze any longer.
He leans in slightly, his voice barely audible as he whispers, "Sorry, it's just a force of habit..." Then, he playfully pulls down the sleeping mask on your head, covering your eyes. "I can't help but look at that ridiculously cute face of yours." You're grateful for the mask, as it shields you from having to face him directly. Your heart is racing, and you're certain your cheeks are flushed. How on earth are you going to survive this eleven hour long flight?
Seonghwa's heart was racing as he sat there, feeling the same way you do. He knew he had to step up his game because he wanted you to be his. he couldn't help but feel excited at the thought of you being his. After three hours of trying to sleep, he finally managed to doze off for a little over half an hour. Suddenly, he felt something heavy on his shoulder and when he looked over, he saw you sleeping soundly next to him. He couldn't help but smile at how adorable you looked.
As he traced your cheeks and tucked your hair behind your ear, he couldn't help but think about how much he wanted to be yours. "Be mine y/n," he whispered softly. Seeing you so peaceful and relaxed made him chuckle a bit, knowing how different you were in real life. But his moment of bliss was interrupted by someone kicking your chair.
He saw you twitch and he held on for his dear life, and immediately spoke up. "Could you please control that kid of yours? My girlfriend is trying to sleep," he said, before putting a blanket on you and caressing your forehead and placing a chaste kiss to your forehead, "Sweet dreams," he whispered, hoping that you would feel safe and loved in his arms. But what he didn't predict, was that person asking him if you, aka, 'his gf' "your girlfriend slept alright?" And you were already throwing glares his way.
And just like that, 11 hours had slipped away in the blink of an eye, leaving you standing at the airport with your massive suitcases. You couldn't deny it, the thrill of adventure was starting to fade away, replaced by a creeping sense of exhaustion. All that remained was a mere flicker of excitement as you finally arrived at the hotel.
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"And both of your room number is 3001. Here's the key," the receptionist announced, handing over the precious key. As you stood there, barely able to keep your eyes open, Seonghwa eagerly snatched the key from her hands with a cheerful smile. Goodness gracious, you thought to yourself, there's no way you can survive living with him.
"Alright, let me get this straight," Seonghwa declared with a mischievous grin as the two of you stepped into the room. "You can take the bed, and I'll sleep on the couch." But before you could even take a step further, you halted in your tracks, disbelief etched across your face. "You honestly expect me to live here with you?" Your reaction caught Seonghwa off guard, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
"Why... what do you mean, y/n?" he scoffed, his voice tinged with confusion.
"Seonghwa," you took a deep breath, your gaze fixed on him, "I told you to give up this whole fake dating charade. You know very well that you're still entangled with your girlfriend, and I'll just end up being the homewrecker in this situation."
You continued to ramble, unaware that he was slowly making his way towards you. As he closed the distance, you instinctively took a step back, only to find yourself pressed against the wall. His intense gaze never wavered, and he loomed over you, leaving you with no escape.
Inhaling deeply, you locked eyes with Seonghwa, refusing to back down. He leaned in closer, placing his arm against the wall beside your head, effectively trapping you. He simply stood there, studying your face as if he were capturing every detail in his mind's eye.
The air grew thick, and you couldn't help but feel breathless as you returned his intense gaze, standing your ground without hesitation. And then, he leaned in even closer, so close that your breaths mingled, his intoxicating scent enveloping your senses.
God, if it weren't for your pride, you would have kissed him right then and there. And then, in a raspy, deep voice you had never heard before, he spoke, "Did you think I was going to kiss you?"
A rush of butterflies erupted in your stomach, making it difficult to breathe. Your mind was a blur, consumed by his presence. From the tip of his nose to his soft lips, he had your undivided attention.
But you weren't alone in that room. A few hotel guests passed by, casting strange glances your way. Without missing a beat, Seonghwa shielded you with his towering frame, his eyes fixed on the onlookers. He was dangerously close, and it sent a thrill down your spine.
It's crazy, but yeah..in the end you did find yourself on the bed of the hotel room. However, sleep did not greet you the whole night. So, the next day you were practically half-asleep as your families, explored the various monuments and places in Venice.
The three days were absolutely tiring, during the day you tried to act like a couple, and during night you had to cope up with the awkwardness due to his presence.
Until one night ...
"You're awake right?" you whispered, hoping for a response. You could sense his presence behind you, even though your backs were turned towards each other. "Yes" he replied and then went quiet. The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence, as if it had taken over every inch of space.
And then, breaking the stillness, he began, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation. You could tell he was about to reveal something that would ignite a spark within you. "You know," he said, drawing out the words, "those bracelets I gave you... they weren't just ordinary bracelets."
"they were wish bracelets"
He said and you remembered they were once a trend back in when you were in middle school.
"You wear them...and when they fall, you know your wish is about to come true."
"..."
"I didn't untie it at graduation, it fell...i thought I'd lost it."
Your breath became quicker, "but you found it."
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rubyleaf · 3 months ago
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A DREAM I HAD.
In hindsight it doesn't really matter how we got here. What matters is where we are.
It was supposed to be another game we picked up, this much I remember. Something about surviving in a dystopian setting, beating our enemies, completing a mission. You and I in different roles, with different abilities that complete each other perfectly. We've done this before.
What I don't remember is what happened next.
I look around, and the place around us is dark, unfamiliar. A concrete block rises up behind us, holding little more than a door and the promise of underground hallways. Bare, spidery trees rise up to meet a foggy night sky. A path, half covered by dead leaves, trails away into the unknown distance. The only source of light comes from sickly, flickering neon.
My eyes trail down along my body, finding a lab coat, ghostly white in the pale light. You look unchanged, but even as you smile at me, your outstretched arms change and morph into the tentacles of an octopus.
"Ready?" you ask me, your hand on my shoulder warm and human once more. I nod. It's still a game, I tell myself, and it's still us. Together, there is no game we've attempted that we haven't won in the end.
The rules come to me on instinct as I try to rehash them in my head. The task is simple. With our different abilities, make it to the enemy base. Take out the enemies controlling the area. Survive.
This is nothing to be scared of.
Smiling back, I give your hand a squeeze and step forward. "Ready."
You stride forward at once. From a few feet away I can see your shadowed outline transforming, turning into that octopus-like thing again. I myself scan the path, searching for signs of danger. Between the two of us, you're the fighter. I'll have to be the one sneaking past them in other ways.
The path I take is winding, remote. From a distance sounds drift over to me, shouts, the crunching of broken bones, then silence. Through the trees I sometimes catch glimpses of you tearing your way through with your tentacles. Guards keep running at you, shouting and armed; but their voices cut off mid-shout, their weapons falling uselessly to the ground. Not a single one of them has noticed me. All their eyes are on the one-man army that rips through their forces like paper.
Careful to stay quiet, I keep walking.
My path continues to wind. The sounds of battle grow more distant, then fade. Nothing jumps out of the trees or tries to attack me. I stay on my guard, but I'm not afraid. I've seen you; you can beat them. You'll be fine.
And then the trees open up, and where the enemy base should be, I find nothing but debris and devastation.
A silhouette comes striding out of the wreckage, long tentacles retracting into familiar human arms. I run at you, taking in every inch of your form, searching for injuries and finding none. There's only you, safe and sound, after completing our quest on your own in no time at all.
"Are you okay?" you ask me like I was the one fighting, and I almost laugh. Your chest is warm against my face as I pull you into my arms, pressing my cheek into the thick gray sweater you always wear this time of year.
"Of course I'm okay," I say. "You could've left some for me, you know! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," you reply, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Your voice is warm as always, but your lips are cold on my skin.
Together we look out into the distance. Ahead of us, empty fields stretch out into nothingness. Thick fog swallows the horizon, pierced only sporadically by jagged trees. Somewhere in the distance something seems to be moving, but it's too dark to tell for sure.
"Let's still be careful," you say, as though reading my thoughts. "There could be more enemies out there."
Side by side we set out into the unknown. Your arm wraps tightly around my waist. Your hand gives me a gentle squeeze, but something doesn't feel right about it—like it's someone else's hand, or something else entirely. But every time I look down, the hand still looks like yours.
So I look ahead again, and sometimes, just for reassurance, I risk a glance at your face. Every time I look directly at you, it looks the same as always. But from the corner of my eye, sometimes I think I glimpse the head of an octopus instead.
Something stirs in the mist, and you move before I can think. As a blur you dart from my side, growing tentacled, larger than life. A scream is cut short. Bones crunch. Then there is a sickening slurping sound, and finally there's you again, standing over little more than a broken-down skeleton.
"What—" Trying not to look too closely, I make my way back to your side, digging my hands into your arm. "What just happened?"
You stare at the skeleton. Your voice is calm, the kind of calm you are when you're too surprised, too stunned to comprehend what just happened. "I don't know," you say.
Suddenly the misty air around us is clammy, freezing cold. Shivering, I pull you away from the skeleton, and you follow willingly. "Let's get out of here," I say quietly.
Your arms wrap around me again, tighter than ever, and we keep walking. Out here, the fog is so thick we can barely see a few steps ahead. The pounding of my heart feels too loud in the silence, the rustle of our footsteps in the grass revealing. The very fields feel alive, watching us with hungry eyes.
Out of nowhere you stop, letting out a strained sound. Your grip on me tightens, and I lift my gaze. "What's—"
And then I look down, and I see it. Your arms on my waist are no longer yours. They're tentacles, and on your face, patches of skin have changed color.
"What's wrong?" I ask. Maybe, I tell myself, it's just another enemy you've sensed nearby. Maybe that's all it is.
Your tentacled arms pull me closer. Your eyes are wide and bright and openly afraid.
"I can't change back," you say.
The cold of the air creeps into my very bones. "What do you mean, you can't change back?"
"I don't know," you reply. "I think I'm…" You trail off. "It's difficult to think."
More of your skin turns that strange color. A hiss escapes you, as though you're in pain. I rest my hand on one of your tentacles holding my stomach, giving it a gentle squeeze. It's all I know to do. Under my palm, your skin is cold.
Something else moves in the darkness, and once again you move without warning. This time you leave nothing behind of the attacker, not even their bones.
A shiver crawls down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold, followed by grief, a chilling resignation. We may have completed our mission, but our time here is numbered. The very monster that has led you to victory is consuming you now. And once it takes over completely, there will be nothing left of you.
I should run. Get back to where we started, find the edge of this terrain, get out while I still can. Cut my losses and hope I escape before you lose yourself entirely—before you devour me the way you devoured those attackers, quickly and without mercy.
But I look at you, half human, half eldritch horror, and step back into your arms instead.
"We should go back," I tell you softly. "Who knows what's still out there, and with you losing control like this…let's go to safety."
"Yeah." Your voice is heavy as you answer, but it's still yours. "You're probably right."
Step by step, we make our way back through the dark. Your tentacles are wrapped tightly around my waist, shielding me from harm for as long as you still remember my name and my face. Your face is slowly changing color. Sometimes, from the corner of my eye, all I see is the octopus.
I should run. I know that, but the thought of fleeing never actually crosses my mind. You're doomed, we're both doomed, but for now you're still you. Once you transform, I know I'll be dead immediately. But while even a glimmer of you remains, I know nothing will hurt me. While even a trace of you is still in there, fighting the monster, I don't have it in me to turn my back on you.
Some part of me wants to say something, but no words will leave my mouth. During simpler, happier times, you used to joke all the time that you just wanted to eat me up. It seems so long ago now, long ago and so bitterly ironic.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I wrap an arm around your back and hope against hope for a miracle.
The ruins of the enemy base pass us by. Arm in arm we march back into the woods. Your transformation is as merciless as it is slow. We're almost at the point where we started again. Maybe from there we can find a way to get out of here. Maybe, despite everything, this isn't where we die: one devoured by the other, the other consumed from within by a being beyond comprehension.
But as we approach our starting point, blue light blinds our eyes. Cars have stopped between the trees, the lights on their roofs flashing. Groups of policemen are combing the woods, striding towards us with flashlights. There is nowhere to hide. Any moment now, they're going to find us.
Heart pounding, I open my eyes.
All around me, everything is still dark; but this time it's the familiar darkness of your bedroom, only a sliver of light escaping past the blackout curtains to the ceiling. My skin feels dry and hot under the double blanket. A glance at my phone tells me it's five in the morning.
Eyes adjusting to the blackness, I glance over to where you're sleeping next to me, barely an arm's reach away. Your form is hard to make out, buried somewhere between your pillow and blanket; but I can tell you're there, even if you sleep so silently that I have to strain to hear you breathing. Still there, still alive, still human. Safe and sound, just like I left you when we both went to sleep.
Steadying my breaths, I try to picture you in the darkness: the outline of your shoulders peeking out of the covers, rising and falling gently, your hair half escaping from the braid you keep it in at night. Warmth fills my chest. The urge to reach for you and pull you close is almost too strong to resist. But that would wake you, and I of all people know how hard good sleep is for you to come by.
So I simply lie there instead, staring into the night while reality settles back into me. You're still here. I'm still here. And later, first thing in the morning, I'm going to tell you about my dream. Maybe you'll still be in bed next to me, hugging me close while I rest my head on your chest as I speak. Or maybe you'll already be up, booting up a game in the living room or making breakfast in the kitchen, only to hurry over when I open the door to hug and kiss me good morning. Your eyes will light up when they meet mine, and your hands on my waist will be warm and gloriously human.
Somewhere in the dark, you roll over in your sleep, then snore softly for a couple of breaths. I try to stare at the ceiling again. My body still feels too alert to sleep, but the horror is fading from it, little by little.
But eventually even I drift back off to sleep, and this time I don't dream of anything.
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declawedwildcat · 1 month ago
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n+c ranked on how much you think you'd actually like spending time with your fav love interest if they were a real person
Hmmm now THIS is a question. The most indecisive one so far, I've switched out the order so many times while working on it. But there is a correct answer, given that not that long ago I just reblogged an unrelated post commenting that I needed to be friends with him IRL haha.
From least to most:
5. Makoto — I'm not sure whether the sweet pool boys really get to qualify as "love interests", but out of the three with endings I probably liked Makoto the most. Unfortunately, he also would probably annoy the hell out of me 😂 I think it would look much like him trying to hang out with Youji: he yammers a stream of rumors or jokes or what-have-you at some fast food place he's dragged us to while I respond next to nothing in the one-sided conversation. He seems like he has the kind of outgoing energy that comes off overwhelming instead of contagious. In groups he might be fun, but one on one we'd probably get along the least.
4. Rin — Togainu no Chi is the only one where my favorite LI as a character is different than my favorite protag ship, because while I'm a sucker for childhood friends, sorry Keisuke you're kind of boring as hell. I had Rin in last place originally, but the more I think about it, I actually think he might be really enjoyable. He's outgoing and pushy, but he kind of uses it to establish that he calls the shots in this social setting and will shut shit down if someone is overstepping. He expresses his fondness by mocking friends, but he also has a quiet, contemplative side, and he goes out of his way to make sure others are comfortable even though he stands to gain nothing from it. He would make an excellent bitchy coworker, as evidenced by Chiral Café.
3. Koujaku — Koujaku is a sweetheart. I love him. He's an excellent friend, he's loyal, funny, honest... but he's also a frat bro type with a ~chivalrous womanizer~ persona. I feel like his passtime of choice is probably pub crawl. He also smokes, though he seems pretty considerate about it. Maybe I'm being too harsh on him; if he's already dating Aoba at that point he might be more tolerable, it could be fun to have him as a gossipy gay hairdresser and he seems the type to go out of his way to do something YOU enjoy if you're spending time together. Hitting up festivals with him actually sounds like a good time as long as he's not treating me like his fangirls.
2. Asato — I'm torn as to whether Asato would be a nightmare to hang out with or if his inherent charm would be enough to make him the ideal choice. He may be difficult to hold a conversation with, and you'd have to be on guard for property damage from both his anxious scratching habit and his general naiveté, but he's often content with just chilling quietly and sharing an activity or a space without needing to make a big deal out of it. He would probably love just sharing interests with each other; ramble to him about that new book you like or teach him the basics of that one hobby, he'll listen to you for hours. Also I feel like having to go about my day periodically taking stock of my windows in case of upside-down kitty jumpscare would be a good kind of whimsy right now
1. Rei — Oh my god, I love Rei to death. Rei is half the reason any of this happened, I bought surodame mostly for him. He is way too good a friend, he's always so considerate and doting to practically anyone he crosses paths with. He is limp-wrist camp gay and walks around with sweater paws half the time, leather the other half. He spends his free time beating the shit out of dudes for fun then goes home to be a big sensitive ball of anxiety and self-doubt. I would love to go out for desserts with him and let him do my tattoos + piercings. Help re-dye his hair while he vents about Taku and Towa. Sleepovers with completely overkill skincare routines and cheesy games of truth or dare. Queer to queer communication.
{"Make me stack-rank my toxic yaoi" asks}
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shatouto · 1 year ago
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random OC ask: what is an alternate life path your OC might have gone down? how different would their life be if they'd made those decisions instead?
ohohohoho. ohoho. oh boy
i think there are two biggest "branching off timelines" moments in solli's life, at least so far
1. running away with astarion VS staying with cazador
this moment, to be more exact. in the good timeline, solli comes down to the kennel, frees and heals astarion, and runs away with him
if solli hadn't come down to the kennel that night, cazador would keep astarion in there and torture him for another week, maybe even month, however long it takes for astarion to learn his lesson and never even think of approaching solli again. the cazador in my story enjoys making the distinction between his half-vampire heir and the spawn who are beneath him.
then cazador would rethink his approach so far and inject solli's sterile environment with more and more of his lordly venom. he will say that solli is about the right age to really learn, and start to mould solli into a second version of him.
solli is young, obedient and attached. he actually really loves his father, even in the good timeline, never mind here. he has always hung onto cazador's every word. i think once solli gets over the trauma of having to brutally beat astarion who is someone he cares about, the innocent child will truly be gone.
in this timeline solli will become a full-fledged cazador 2.0, and what he lacks in true vampire power he makes up with sadism. he will be an artillerist artificer who also makes torture device on the side (godey hates it; automation might take away his job someday!). he is cazador's second in command, often seen by his side during social gatherings, and he preens in that position. the spawn, especially astarion, hate him a lot. he doesn't care because he thinks they're beneath him
he doesn't know that he's also a sacrificial lamb when the time comes, just a little more special. he might or might not survive cazador's ascension, depending on how it goes
2. convincing astarion not to ascend VS helping astarion ascend
(this will be towards the end of the story so i haven't written it obviously lol)
this fork in the road assumes that solli did previously run away with astarion and was by his side for years before they come back to szarr palace to face cazador (like in the game).
this is basically the ascendant ending but because solli's relationship to astarion is a bit different from tav's, i still wanna talk about it a bit (also bc i've thought about it A Lot)
i think ascended lord astarion would really double down on gloating about having "stolen" cazador's heir. it's kind of sad because it's been years since he stopped thinking of solli as just a trophy and a fuck you to cazador; he's come to love the kid. but, with time, ascension will bring out the worst in him.
he has solli grow his hair out long again (so he looks more like cazador than ever), dresses him up all prettily, and keeps him locked in his beautiful chamber. solli is returned to exactly where he was as a child: a pretty doll in a glass case, to be displayed but never touched. lord astarion treats him pretty much the same way as cazador.
in my lore, solli can't really be turned into anything other than a half-vampire – he can't become a true vampire OR a dark consort. he was born being able to walk in the sun, so in return he can never have anything more than that. as such, astarion grows bored with him after a while and leaves him isolated for longer and longer stretches of time as he finds amusement elsewhere.
i'm ambiguous on whether astarion would torture him for fun at any point in time. it's possible, considering solli can look A Lot like cazador especially if you're like squinting to see that. maybe lord astarion would do it when he's feeling extra vindictive or resentful (or bored), i'm not sure
regardless, solli will just wither away in solitude and eventually die alone
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violetwitch12087 · 2 years ago
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When you're walking down the street to go home you bump into something or someone a silver headed mutant and when you guys become best friends and you go over to his house his mom loves you and as you're about to beat his high score on his arcade game he tries to stop you but you have an idea..
Clumsy
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I walk down the street my backpack on my back going home from school when suddenly i bump into something i fall and land on my butt but my hands cushioned my fall i look up too see a silver headed actually really cute boy
He has dimples you can barley see when hes not smiling perfect lips a silver jacket a pink Floyd shirt and black jeans i thought i was the clumsy one it was almost like he appeared out of no where well maybe hes a mutant since his hair is literally silver
We look at each other for a moment before he quickly stands up and puts a hand out for me which i gladly take "sorry for running into you" he says and i shrug my shoulders a bit "its whatever at least you aren't a asshole" i say and he smiles his dimples more defiant
"And at least you didnt use your backpack to hit me a whole bunch of times" he says and a laugh escapes my lips and he looks down at my lips almost thinking of something but i just met him i dont wanna push him already "you're really pretty" he mutters out regret filling his face after but a blush just appears on my cheeks making butterflies in my stomach erupt
"Thank you" i mutter softly and nervously if theres one thing i hate about myself is my anxiety and nervousness i clear my throat trying to look more confident and put my hand out "my names y/n" i say and i see his eyes light up a bit "peter" he says taking my hand in his, his hand engulfing mine thats so attractive holy shit
I shake his hand our handshake lasting longer then it shouldve but im not complaining "can i uh maybe have your number? If you dont wanna give me it its fine I've gone through that before and stuff you know like really its fine" peter starts rambling and i laugh again softly before i grab his phone and put my number in it putting my name and a heart next to it
I pass the phone back to him and he looks down at the contact almost in disbelief before he looks back at me a smile going back on his face "thanks" he says and i nod softly "text me later handsome" i say before i breeze past him my arm touching his before i start walking home thinking of peter the entire time when i finally get home i put my backpack down and change before flopping onto my bed and i feel a vibration from my pocket i pull out my phone and see a random number texted me and i open it
'hey sweetheart its peter or should i say handsome?' he teases making me blush even more damn it i barley met him and i get butterflies when i even so much as think about him 'oh yeah? Okay babe i need to go to bed ill text you tomorrow?' i send and wait a moment before he responds 'yeah text me when you're free my love' he says and i squeal covering my face with my hands we barley met what the fuck but he's really cool i mean he listens to pink floyd i think i might really get along with him
I close my eyes pulling the blanket closer to me as i fall asleep peter stuck in my mind all night
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The next day after school i walk down the same path where i met peter i would be lying if i said I didn't hope i saw peter when i feel a gust of wind infront of me i look up and am met with the eyes of speak of the devil, peter.
"Hey sweetheart" he says and i roll my eyes playfully "hey handsome" i say and i see a smile appear on his face "where ya headed off too?" He asks and i shrug "i might actually go to the store i needa pick up some things" i say and he nods "well can i go with you?" He asks and i look up at him before nodding and we start heading to the store
We get to the store and we walk inside going to get bread and milk and just the essentials and all that and before i could walk up to pay and scan my stuff i end up in the blink of an eye in the cart moving fastly for a split second and were outside i look around and see peter pushing the cart "what the hell was that for pete?" I ask and he shrugs a smug grin on his face "well with my mutation lets just say i don't really pay for a lot of stuff i cant resist it" he says "kleptomaniac" i murmur under my breath playfully and he nudges me with his elbow "exactly" he says making me smile
"Okay now i have to walk all the way to my house while holding these bags" i whine resting my hands on the cart and resting my head onto my hands covering my face "who says you alone?" He says and i smile lifting my head up "okay here's how its gonna work you grab the bags and put them on your wrists and hands and stuff and ill carry you to your house" he says and i look at him in disbelief
"What you dont believe me or somethin?" He asks and i shake my head "okay fine grab the bags" he says and i grab them putting my arm through the holes in the bag and peter walks over to me and picks me up bridal style making me squeal "omg peter please dont drop me" i say "im not that weak you know" he says rolling his eyes playfully making me smile "okay lay your head against my chest" he says and i look up at him confused "so you dont get whiplash" he says like it was obvious "oh" i mutter softly and rest the side of my head and face against his chest. Totally not enjoying this
In a flash we end up at the corner of the store and i give peter directions every time we stop and we make it to my house way quicker than if we walked i turn to peter "stay right here i havent said bye yet" i say and he smiles slightly as i go inside and set the bags onto the counter and walk back outside i go over to peter and pull him into a hug which he surprizingly accepts
My arms wrapped around his neck my head on his shoulder his arms wrapped around my waist securely i smile and give peter a peck on the cheek lingering it a bit "thank you handsome" i say softly "no problem sweetheart" he says and we finally pull away from each other despite my body and mind and heart yearning to hold him close to me again "ill text you later" i say and he nods "okay talk to you later" he says and i send him a wink before walking into my house and i start putting groceries away
After a while i end up finishing and i go to bed peter stuck in my mind like everytime
____________________
It has been a couple weeks now maybe a month and a half since me and peter met and started flirting and my feelings for him have sky rocketed i talk to him every day and night i think about him i even have dreams about him
Today i actually dont have school its the weekend and i really wanna see peter i dont know he just makes me so happy and we really get along hes so sweet to me i pick up my phone and press his contact 'hey handsomeee i dont have school today what ya doin?' i text him and wait for an answer which comes quick (pun intended) (get it cs hes fast? No? Okay my bad😭)
'hey sweetheart im really just bored you wanna hang out?' he sends and i smile 'of course i always wanna hang out with my favorite person' i say 'awe ur so sweet ill meet you at the same meet up spot' he says 'okay im heading out now see you in a bit' i send and i turn off my phone before putting it in my pocket and i start heading out the front door
I walk to go down the same trail where me and peter met that day and look around for peter when someone grabs my shoulders from the back and shakes me a bit "boo!" Peter says making me jump "god peter you scared the fuck out of me" i say raising my hand to hit him on his arm he saw this hit from miles away but let my hand come in contact with his arm (cs hes such a sweetheart)(god i love him)
"I had to do it" he says shrugging his shoulders and i roll my eyes playfully "what do you wanna do?" I ask as we start walking "okay dont make this seem weird but do u maybe wanna come over to my place?" He says and i immediately nod "of course i dont mind you're my bestfriend after all" why did i say that no i wanna be more than friends peter god im so stupid
Peter walks behind me making me confused before he bends down and picks me up bridal style again making me smile and i lay my head against his chest again and in a flash were infront of a pretty good looking house and peter slowly sets me down "thank you" i say softly "your welcome" he says smiling at me before we start heading to the front door
He opens it and we walk in "ma im home i have a friend" he yells "im in the kitchen" someone responds im guessing his mom since he called her ma we walk down to the kitchen where im met with a lady with brown almost blond hair in a ponytail to the side she seems sweet hopefully shes as sweet as peter is?
"Hi ms maximoff" i say putting my hand out and the lady seems taken back she smiles and takes my hand in hers "nice to meet you.."
"Y/n" i say "oh nice to meet you y/n you seem like a sweetheart, you and pete a thing or what cause she isnt that bad and i wouldnt mind" she says making a blush appear on my face a small laugh building inside of me "unfortunately me and peter are just friends, even if i wish we were together" i mumble the last part thinking she didnt hear it but oh she did "and she is a sweetheart thats what i call her" peter says and i have to look away to not show myself flustered
"Well me and y/n are gonna hang out downstairs" peter says as were about to start walking when his mom stops me she pulls me close to her and puts her mouth close to my ear "peters been gushing about a girl recently and i heard him say her name and it sounds like yours if you wish you guys were together then maybe go for it you only meet someone once and you seem like you would take care of pete and keep him in line" she says and i nod "and if he does like me i will ill treat him so well ill keep him off your shoulders i know how much energy he could have" i say and she smiles before i head back towards peter and we head down the steps to the house basement guess he lives down here its fine it looks actually kinda cool
"What did my mom say to you" peter asks as i look around and start to walk to a arcade machine peter has wow i want one of these "nothing important" i lie starting a game moving the joystick peter stands up and walks over to me standing next to me watching the screen as well after a couple moments im almost about to beat peters high score when he starts trying to take my hand off the joystick
Without thinking i grab peters collar and pull him close to me and place a quick kiss on his lips making him pause and look at me confused after a second i keep going and then i finally die i excitedly jump up and down "i won! I beat you peter!" I taunt starting to turn towards him when my lower back is pushed into the game peters hands on my waist my arms reach up to wrap around peters neck he looks down at me with doeful eyes
He starts to lean down our lips teasing each other as we barely touch then finally our lips connect we move our lips against one another my hands pulling him impossibly closer by his neck his arms wrap around my waist pulling me flat against him before he lets one arm go and gently puts his hand on my cheek as we kiss softly not wanting to let each other go our lips finally separate and he looks down at me while i look up at him looking into his beautiful brown eyes i dream of
"So uh you have a boyfriend?" He jokes nervously "yeah his names peter" i say before i grab his face with my hands and lay more kisses to his soft lips which he gratefully accepts kissing me back more relaxed and freely than the first time making me smile into the kiss causing him to smile as well
We pull away and i turn back to the game peters arm wraps around my waist as he watches me playing the game i couldnt be happier....
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This is the cutest thing I've ever seen omg i love this with my whole heart i love peter so much hes such a sweetheart hes a lover boy god i wish this was real😭 anyways i love you a lot as well you mean so much to me you dont even understand *mwah mwah mwah* bye bye my love
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dundunny · 1 year ago
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Final Fantasy XVI
Final Fantasy XVI completed, and wow, I think it's my favorite Final Fantasy since IX, and I'm surprised more people aren't talking about it (focusing on VIIR2?). It's not a perfect game and has some glaring flaws, but I haven't had this much fun playing a Final Fantasy in a long time.
I'll start with the issues, and I think number one is the items, which affects the game twofold. First is there's a completely fucked up weapon upgrade system. Literally after I get a shiny new sword, barely an hour later I've gotten another one. It's like Square didn't track when a player should get trying out something new. The second is the rewards for exploration or epic battles don't matter. There are maybe a dozen different upgrade materials in the whole game, most of which you get pretty early on. So I'm literally running around the final area and finding fucking sharp fangs, which I started collecting way back in the beginning when Clive was like fifteen. Yeah, (some) bounties have good drops, but I literally defeated Bahamut and got forty bloody hides, of which I already owned hundreds. None of the accessories felt like game changers either, so opening up treasure chests felt like meh. You need a sort of nice reward for effort. If I'm gonna walk across the map for some distant treasure, it better not be five of what I already have hundreds of. It's annoying because they put so much effort into everything else, so literally hiring one dude whose sole job is this I feel shouldn't've been hard.
Then there are regular battles. Let me say this first: boss battles were amazing and I was completely satisfied with them. But XVI suffered from the same issue as Hogwarts Legacy: too little variation in enemies and you're way overleveled early on. There's no incentive to fight regular enemies on the map because you're not getting much EXP since you're already way over, their drops are pointless like every other item, so they're more or less just an annoyance you avoid. I didn't put any effort in trying basic encounters, and I beat the game one level below max. So what's the point. Given how much effort Square put into the battle system, it's a shame they didn't let me flex my muscles with it more often.
This is a personal preference but I think others would agree: I'm a big environments fiend, and you don't get to explore any of the major cities. Hell, you never see the Iron Kingdom's capital even in a cutscene. The cities are just dungeons, so you're basically there as a continuous fight so you don’t have time to appreciate the surroundings, and when you do everything is in the process of being destroyed or already is. You don’t even get to visit what should be a moderately sized town, Port Isolde, and even Northreach felt like a minor checkpoint before the capital moved. All that's left are small towns or even just hovels. I wonder if they were trying to save resources on environments; Oriflamme looks amazing from the outside, I can't imagine having the render all of that.
That being said, dungeons are following the trend of a linear path with perhaps a quick diversion for treasure. There's no puzzles, no thought (although a good portion of the time the dungeons are mid-battle of a large attack so there isn't time). XVI isn't alone in this; I've noticed most RPGs in recent years don't do the puzzle route as much anymore.
Another minor complaint is at times they would shove the point down the player's throat until it became fantastical. Yes, slavery is bad and people abuse slaves. However, I cannot imagine even in the cotton-picking South some person would purposefully have other people's slaves be killed by a giant wolf. That is someone else's property. Slaves to that extent are safe from others besides the master. Some dude is not going to go out and start murdering slaves randomly because even the law protects the master's possessions. It just doesn't make any sense.
Now onto the good things: pretty much everything else. The plot is solid and feels like Final Fantasy returning to form. Big crystals that need to be destroyed, kingdoms falling, a higher power controlling things behind the scenes... One thing I appreciate, and I think many recent games have lost this, is XVI had many sidequests that had us check in on friends we've met along the way and continue with their subplots. You never really forget these people and it shows how a network of connections and bonds is maintained. Even Eastpool, which was massacred fairly early on, rises up again much later on.
Another factor that I think is important is I just like Clive a lot. He's also my favorite Final Fantasy protagonist since IX. Don't get me wrong; I did like Lightning but if I ever had to work toward a common goal with her in real life, I probably would punch her in the face. I have no idea how she was ever in the military because she has zero sense of teamwork, and she acts like an asshole to even people who are actively trying to help her. Clive in contrast is very mature, has strong leadership abilities, not overly angry or obnoxious or lonerlike, and is just trying to do good in the world. He does make mistakes, but they're reasonable ones that happen because he didn't have all the information or there were circumstances he couldn't've foreseen, unlike other protagonists who do things you know are wrong and stupid but they do it anyway for the sake of plot. He makes the effort to play with the kids even though he isn't great at it, and they admire him for that. Even when he's angry in the beginning of the game, he's still respectful toward Cid and says, "Thanks for saving me, I have nothing against you or your group, I just have my own path I need to take." He recognizes his own weaknesses, and in such situations seeks assistence or delegates to others. He feels like an actual, filled-out human being, and kudos to whoever wrote him.
The other members of the cast are great too. Jill is very badass but a bit quiet and subdued, but given her time in the Iron Kingdom that's understandable. I thought Joshua would just be a plot point, but he really grew into his own. Cid was fun to be with, and I was sad when he was gone. Gav as always was cool. The enemies were great too. Benedikta died early on, but they threw in a great backstory with the little time they had. Kupka was an idiot and not deep, but you could feel his love and pain. Dion's path was surprising and I never knew what his next step was.
The battle system is definitely the best in the series. It was cool to experiment with each of the summons, and really it can be tailored easily to your style. No one I've asked equipped the same three summons. It feels like they were trying to reach a God of War level of combat, but simultaneously they fumbled on the actual fights. Again, bosses were amazing, but regular fights were just meh. I guess that's why they threw in so many boss fights so frequently.
In terms of music XV was definitely better, but I wouldn't stick my nose up to this. As with many aspects of the game, there were a lot of throwbacks. Prelude and the Final Fantasy Theme came up repeatedly, but also On the Shoulders of Giants had the traditional Final Fantasy regular battle opening. And also randomly for one of the times you fight Ultima, it's the FFI world map theme. I've definitely heard better, but I could listen to this OST on its own. The lyrics however are stupid. From what I'm understanding, they tasked the English translator to provide them, and considering this is the dude that wrote out "such foul attaint may not be sublimed through gainstanding," you can tell where this is going. I'll give a few examples:
A sickle forged of adamant To server the man from his hooded past No more a slave to sorrow's gloom In onychine eyes burn chthonic doom An evil hidng from the sun Blinding, he screameth eschaton immanent Now in its wake yawned lightless abyss Yon gaping maw his circumfix
I feel like this written by a high schooler who believes using as much SAT vocabulary they just learned makes them sound more intelligent. I don't know why anyone would compose this.
Visually it's all right. XV had a prettier environment, but this wasn't bad, especially when you're walking around Rosaria. I touched on how you never explore epic architecture, but the nature is beautiful. Unfortunately in the second half of the game when everything goes to shit, the world gets this haze over it and nothing is appealing to look at (which isn't unusual; other Final Fantasies, especially VI had catastrophic situations in the second half of the game). I guess that's kinda the point; the Blight is wiping out everything and actually Clive's efforts could ultimately be for naught and it's too late.
Which is how I'm going to end: It's a very depressing game. There's a lot of death, a lot of tragedy, a lot of loss. Clive lives a totally fucked up life, and he's not alone. The fact I still enjoyed this never-ending sadness demonstrates how well it was done. Totally recommend, play it as soon as you can.
Also... can we address that whole Barnabas and his mom thing? They had literally one scene with that and never mentioned it again. What the fuck was with that?
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